


bittersweet love story

by blackandblue13



Series: some jatp one-shots bc i'm emo [1]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: 1990s, Alex Has A Sibling (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex Has Anxiety (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex Has Bad Parents (Julie and The Phantoms), Coming Out, Getting Together, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pre-Canon, Protective Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms), Reggie Has Bad Parents (Julie and The Phantoms), Secret Relationship, a touch-starved bitch wrote this, i know alex has older sibling energy but i made him a younger sibling bc plot oops, it's sunset curve not sunset straight, oh god they're 15 they're babies who let them leave the house, oh gosh i'm emo, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28045305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackandblue13/pseuds/blackandblue13
Summary: It’s not a big deal.Really, it’snot.It’s just… Alex sneaking out to sleep at another guy’s house.Except he may or may not have a small crush on said guy, and, how could henotwhen this guy is an amazing friend and musician, plays along with all his jokes, knows what to do when he’s having a panic attack, and is generallyveryaffectionate, physically and emotionally?...okay, maybe not asmallcrush.
Relationships: Alex & Bobby | Trevor Wilson & Luke Patterson & Reggie, Alex Mercer/Luke Patterson/Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex/Luke Patterson/Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms)
Series: some jatp one-shots bc i'm emo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969249
Comments: 64
Kudos: 273





	bittersweet love story

**Author's Note:**

> do you ever start writing and then you get ten million ideas for one story so you’re like “this might as well happen” because that’s this entire fic. originally it was going to be Just them getting together but So Many Things Happen All The Time sooooooooo 
> 
> cw: panic attacks, violence, homophobia (no slurs), mentions of blood, they go to a hospital at one point 
> 
> title from “perfect harmony”
> 
> 12/15/2020 update: i recently learned that DVDs were not a thing until 1996 so uhh i edited that section (literally just changed the wording so it's a VHS) pls do not yell at me i simply wasn't alive back then

**Late August 1993.**

It starts off simple enough. 

“You’re not sleeping,” Alex says one day after band practice. 

Luke and Bobby are on the other side of the studio, talking about some movie they’re planning to see. Some gory horror flick — they invited Reggie and Alex, but both quickly refused. 

Reggie is clearly exhausted. He put most of his energy into singing at the same mic as Luke, but as soon as they parted ways, his face dropped. Alex caught it during the second song, and he’s surprised Reggie is still upright and maintaining his cheery attitude. 

Reggie unplugs his bass and wraps the cord around his hand. “I’m fine.” 

“Is it your parents again?” Alex asks in a low voice, putting a hand over his, pausing his anxious movement. 

Reggie spares a glance to the other two boys invested in their own conversation, then nods earnestly. 

“Do you want me to come over?” 

“Tonight?” Reggie lifts an eyebrow as he considers the offer in his head. “How soon?” 

“Midnight? I’d have to sneak out.” 

Reggie’s tired expression lights up, a smirk replacing the visible fatigue. “Am I getting the model student, the good Christian son himself to break the rules?” 

Alex shoves him with a laugh. “Shut up.” 

But Reggie won’t let this go. “The neighborhood golden boy is breaking the rules for _me_.” 

“Shut _up_ —” 

“I think it’s because you want to sleep with me.” 

Alex stops _._ “What?” That’s not what he meant _at all_. Sure, he likes Reggie, and he’s definitely been a star of some of Alex’s daydreams, along with Luke, but he’s never thought of doing anything past _kissing_ — 

“You know, sleep next to me, cuddle up to your favorite person?” 

It takes Alex a few seconds to process the fact that Reggie doesn’t understand the euphemism. He refuses to correct him, though. “I hate you.” 

“Come on, dude.” Reggie turns to the other guys, now welcoming the extra attention. “Luke, don’t you wanna sleep with me?” 

“Always, baby.” Luke blows a kiss in their direction and Alex’s face heats up — and he sees Reggie’s cheeks flush pink. 

“Bobby?” 

“Depends,” he answers. “What’s in it for me?” 

“You can tell people you spent the night with your gorgeous best friend.” 

“But I’d be spending the night with _you_ , not Alex.” 

Alex doesn’t blush the same way he did when Reggie and Luke were teasing him, but he’s still embarrassed by the unexpected compliments. “I hate all of you.” 

“You _love_ us,” Luke insists on his and Bobby’s way out. 

Reggie turns back to Alex. There’s a noticeable shift in his demeanor, landing somewhere between the solemnity from when Alex mentioned his parents and the joy brought on by a few comments from Luke and Bobby. It doesn’t _fit_ Reggie. “You don’t have to come over if you don’t want to. Seriously, I’ll be fine.” 

Alex rolls his eyes. “Window or door?” 

He pauses. Then, “I’ll leave the window unlocked.” 

“Always the gentleman, Reg.” 

~~~ 

It’s not a big deal. 

Really, it’s _not_. 

It’s just… Alex sneaking out to sleep at another guy’s house. 

Except he may or may not have a small crush on said guy, and, how could he _not_ when this guy is an amazing friend and musician, plays along with all his jokes, knows what to do when he’s having a panic attack, and is generally _very_ affectionate, physically and emotionally? 

Okay, maybe not a _small_ crush. 

But Alex has _totally_ snuck out a few times before, like every teenager has. It’s in all the movies, so clearly it’s a rite of passage. How hard could it be? 

Okay, scratch that. He’s _never_ done it before, he has no idea what he’s doing, and, knowing Alex, he’ll probably fall out of someone’s window and get caught. 

But it’s just like going to a friend’s house during the day, only now it’s darker and quieter and if his parents find out, he’ll be grounded for eternity. But, like, no pressure. 

His parents go to bed around ten, like clockwork. His older sister, Natalie, can be a bit of a wild card, only home on select weekends for church, but she’s usually out by midnight. After seeing her light turn off, Alex waits a few minutes, then begins his exit. 

Luckily, his bedroom is on the first floor, which makes the trek a whole lot easier. Then the five-minute walk to Reggie’s house, up a tree, and in through a window on the second story. He thinks Reggie is asleep when he comes in, but as soon as he shuts the window, the other boy is sitting up. 

“Sorry—” Alex is cut off by a yell from a few rooms away. “How long have they been at it?” 

Reggie shrugs, hugging his knees to his chest. “Before I got back, probably.” 

“What?” 

“They took a break for dinner.” 

“Reg—” 

“Hey, how come we’re not at your house?” Alex hesitates, and he must look as anxious as the sudden question makes him feel because Reggie apologizes. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have—” 

“No, it’s okay.” Alex sits on the edge of the bed and Reggie moves to hug his arm. “They’d probably kill me or something if they think I’m gay, and I don’t want to risk getting you in trouble, too.” 

“Oh. I forgot they’re like that.” 

“I wish I could forget it.” 

…did he just come out? No, he didn’t exactly _say_ it, but he _did_ use the phrase _I’m gay_ in a sentence, in that order, in a context that screams _I’m hiding so much from my parents_. But, yeah, _no pressure_ on this whole thing. Nope. Absolutely none. 

Reggie presses a kiss to his shoulder, oblivious to the internal panic. “Come on. You’re not getting in my bed with shoes on.” He tugs at Alex’s sweatshirt. “And you’re gonna be hot in this.” 

Alex chuckles. “I’m always hot.” 

“I know, but I don’t want you to be too _warm_.” Leave it to Reggie to make him feel better by lecturing him like this is a normal conversation, and he isn’t risking an endless grounding as a baseline punishment for getting caught. 

He takes off his shoes and hoodie as Reggie pulls him under the covers, his back against Reggie’s chest. “What are you doing?” 

“Comforting you.” 

“Your parents are fighting and you’re trying to make _me_ feel better?” 

Reggie kisses the back of his head. “I love you, dude.” 

“I love you, too.” 

Alex relaxes into his touch. Reggie finds his hands and laces their fingers together and he lets out a breath he’s probably ~~definitely~~ been holding since he left his own house. 

“Hey, Reg?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I’m gonna have to leave really early.” 

“Hmm.” 

“Just so my parents don’t freak out.” 

“Can you wake me up when you go?” 

“Of course.” He kisses Reggie’s knuckles, testing the waters of something that’s already happened twice. He feels Reggie hum against him as they drift off to sleep. 

* * *

**September 1993.**

Alex comes over the next night. And then the next week. And then they fall into a cycle of him staying over on Friday and Saturday nights — sometimes when Reggie’s parents aren’t even home, because they still want each other’s company, sneaking in and out through windows before anyone can notice he was ever there (or gone). 

They don’t talk about it much during the week. They don’t tell Luke and Bobby — not that they’re hiding anything. Between sneaking out and hiding from parents, they just don’t want to worry their friends. It doesn’t affect rehearsals, aside from Alex accidentally staring too long and Reggie winking back when the others are turned away. But it’s all friendly, right? 

Alex never gets used to the noise, and he’s not sure how Reggie has, or _if_ he’s gotten used to it. All he knew about Reggie’s parents was that they fought loudly and frequently and that’s why Sunset Curve argues in low, calm tones. They don’t jokingly punch each other like bros are “supposed to” — Bobby did it to Luke once and Reggie gaping in fear still burns in the back of Alex’s mind when he sees violence in the movies his dad commends. 

But after spending an hour in their house, Alex gets a basic summary of all the marital problems between Mr. and Mrs. Peters from the sources themselves, only a floor below. They’ll hear a crash and Reggie will shake against his chest, Alex kissing the top of his head, whispering _It’ll be okay_ until he calms down. Most of the time, if the yelling comes out of nowhere in the middle of the night, it stops within minutes. On rare occasions, when it feels like the fighting will never end, Alex distracts Reggie by humming, then Reggie harmonizes, and somehow they get through Sunset Curve’s discography, and it’s like they’re the only people awake at this ungodly hour. 

(Reggie’s distaste for loud noises doesn’t include the drums for some reason. Maybe because it’s music, or maybe because it’s Alex.) 

* * *

The worst nights are when Alex wakes to a soft sob. The ones Reggie _really_ won’t talk about when morning comes, because it’s clear he didn’t intend on waking Alex for something he’ll probably deem unnecessary. 

So Alex resorts to silently pulling Reggie closer, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his head, and Reggie will turn over in his arms, burying his head into Alex’s chest and clutching the fabric of his shirt. 

* * *

On quieter days, usually Sundays, Reggie will wake up first — apparently, he’s a morning person? — kissing Alex’s nose with a grin, the sound of his laugh floating in the air as he bumps their foreheads together, which makes it a lot harder for Alex to leave. He’s mentioned church countless times, how his parents always go to earlier sermons, which means he has to go soon. But then Reggie pulls him back into the bed, whining _Five more minutes_ , and Alex can’t say no. Five minutes turn into half an hour and it’s 6:30am and he _really_ needs to go. 

Or maybe it’s the service in store that keeps Alex from getting up. He’s already sitting on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor, facing away from the most distracting thing in the room. But he turns back anyway. 

Reggie stretches out, hands tucked behind his head as he lays there like a model in the spots of sunlight sneaking in through the window. When he smiles, it’s warmer than where the sun glows on Alex’s bare skin, coming in second place to holding the boy himself. How the hell does he manage to look like _that_ in the morning? 

Catching his stare, Reggie furrows his brow and asks, “What’s wrong?” 

_What’s wrong?_ The question echoes in his mind like a lost explorer calling out, desperate for salvation. The only answer that comes to mind is the best and worst summary, encompassing each thought forcing the avalanche, trapping him in the cave, no escape for miles: 

_Everything._

What’s wrong is the way he can never stop finding pieces of the galaxy in Reggie. The freckles on his cheeks form constellations and the calluses on his fingertips came when he shaped the moon’s craters and the sun takes residence in his smile and his voice is the earth, grounding Alex all the way to his core, and their hearts gravitate toward one another. 

What’s wrong is the way he thinks of Luke as the weather. One day he’s a hurricane, a force to be reckoned with, an unstoppable energy booking shows and writing songs until someone else has to put him to sleep. Then he’s thunder and lightning, loud and eminent, ideas jumping out of him without warning. And other days he is overcast, cloudy, finding brightness as his friends shine through him, with him, rebuilding the storm in all its glory. 

It’s the way the bed sinks as Reggie moves next to Alex, holding him to his chest because he can’t stop crying at a two-word question he could’ve answered with a lie, but he can’t stop drowning in the belief that his parents will despise him because he just wants to be loved. 

_No. That’s_ not _what’s wrong_. It never has been, it never will be, and Alex _knows_ that with every fiber of his being. 

What’s _really_ wrong is the way people tell him how wrong he _should_ feel. How they refuse to understand that his love for boys — his two best friends — is greater than any mystery the universe can throw at him. _That’s_ what’s wrong. 

But he can’t get the words out. Instead, he asks, “Can you come to my house? In an hour?” Reggie opens his mouth to speak, but Alex already knows the question on his mind. “I’ll find a way to get out of church, I just…” 

“I’ll be there,” Reggie promises without any hesitation. 

~~~ 

Thankfully, Alex’s parents believed him when he said he got food poisoning from the previous night’s post-gig dinner and they let him stay home alone. He spent about five minutes by himself between his parents leaving and Reggie climbing in through his bedroom window with his backpack. 

“When did they start?” Alex asks. The backpack is all the explanation he needs to know his friend doesn’t plan on returning home anytime soon. 

“As soon as you left.” Reggie tosses it near the foot of Alex’s bed, followed by his shoes and jacket. “It’s like they were upset that you were gone,” he adds with a laugh, nudging Alex to lay next to him on the bed. “So, are you gonna tell me what’s up or do you want another hug?” 

Alex chews on his lip. He might as well tell Reggie now and get it over with. And if he reacts badly… well, it’s not like he can kick Alex out of his own house. “I’m gay.” 

“Cool.” 

“What?” 

“Cool?” Reggie repeats in a uncertain tone. “Should I have said something else?” 

Alex shrugs. “I don’t know, this is my first time telling someone.” 

“Oh.” 

“Aren’t you gonna, like, ask me, a million things?” Alex questions. “Like, how long I’ve known, why have I been hiding this from you, if I’m gonna hit on you, if we shouldn’t cuddle anymore because it’s weird, why I chose to be like—” 

“Alex, _baby_ , come here.” Reggie opens his arms, trying to bring Alex to his chest. “I don’t bite.” 

“I don’t believe that.” 

“Okay, then I guess I _won’t_ hug you and tell you how much I love you.” 

He barely inches toward Reggie. His mind is still running through the possibilities of how this could be a trick and that Reggie actually hates him, but Reggie would _never_ do that to anyone, especially him. 

“'Lex, it’s just us,” he murmurs. Four words that translate to _It’s okay, you can trust me_. It’s enough for Alex to lay his head on Reggie’s chest. Reggie pulls him in even closer so Alex is practically on top of him. “I love you.” 

“You’re so dramatic.” Alex pauses. There’s so much warmth in Reggie’s tone and Alex can’t believe he ever doubted him. His best friend who’s shown him unconditional love and support since the day they met. “I love you, too.” 

“I know.” 

His certainty in his friend’s good intentions doesn’t erase his worry, though. He tries tilting his head and propping his chin up on Reggie’s chest, although Reggie’s grip makes it a _little_ hard to move. “Is this still okay?” 

“What do you mean?” Reggie sounds genuinely puzzled. 

“I mean… you’re a cuddler and I’m me and I’ve been staying over a lot and now everything is different—” 

“Why is everything different?” 

“Because I’m…” 

Reggie quirks an eyebrow. 

“Gay,” Alex finishes, confused as to why he has to come out a second time during this conversation, even though it seemed like Reggie understood him perfectly well the first time. 

“I still don’t see your point.” 

How is he not getting it? “You don’t think I’m gonna… make a move or something?” 

“I’m surprised you haven’t. I’m gorgeous.” 

Alex scoffs. “You sound like Luke.” 

“Yeah, well, Luke is gorgeous, too.” 

“Shut up.” 

Reggie smirks. “Make me.” 

Alex rolls his eyes, but there’s no malice in it, and Reggie laughs, the vibrations echoing between their chests. “Are you sure this is okay?” 

“How many times are you gonna ask that?” 

“It’s just—” 

“ _Different_ , yeah, yeah. You keep saying that, but nothing’s changed.” 

“Reg—” 

“Alex, let me say this.” Reggie pauses for a moment, drawing circles on Alex’s back with his thumbs. “You’re my best friend. You’re the same guy you were yesterday and you’ll be the same guy tomorrow.” 

“But—” 

“But _nothing_ , okay? You’re Alex. You give the best hugs, you dance when you think no one is watching, and you always cover me when I’m a dollar short. You call Luke an idiot, but you carry fruit snacks and a first-aid kit in your fanny pack because of him. You pick up Bobby’s homework when he skips and you go to horror movies with him when none of us will because you don’t want him to be alone. And you’re gay. It’s just another part of _you_ , so don’t even _try_ to tell me otherwise.” 

Oh. 

That’s… 

Oh. 

Reggie squeezes his shoulder after a minute. “You in there, dude? I didn’t break you, right? I know I could probably write your biography—” 

“No, it’s not that, I…” 

Alex can’t find the words. Reggie, he… Alex didn’t know how much he needed to hear that. All of it. He was so scared that Reggie would hate him, would never touch him or look at him again, and then the band would break up, and he’d have no one, but then Reggie comes along and reaffirms him of how loved he is, and… 

“Thank you.” 

Reggie wipes his own cheeks, then Alex’s. He didn’t even notice they were crying. “If anyone gives you shit, then you’re gonna have to bail me, Bobby, and Luke out of jail.” 

“ _Please_ don’t go to jail, especially for me.” 

“I know you’d do the same for us—” 

“Not _jail_ —” 

“I gotta put my baseball bat to use—” 

“ _Reginald_.” 

Reggie laughs. “Alex, baby, don’t worry about it—” 

“Why do you keep calling me _baby_?” 

He shrugs. “It gets your attention.” 

“No, it doesn’t,” Alex insists, although he can see through his own lie. He wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t hyper-aware of every time Reggie used the pet name. 

“Hey, baby?” 

“What?” 

“ _See_?” 

“Oh, my— we were already talking, dumbass.” 

“But it _worked_.” 

~~~ 

Alex is barely awake to comprehend the nearby voices. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I’m really sorry. I had to get out of my house so I came here, but I forgot what day it was, and then Alex opened the door, and he wouldn’t let me go back, so I’ve just been keeping him company while he’s been asleep, and it’s my fault he got sick—” 

“Reginald, it’s okay.” Alex recognizes the other voice as his mom. “I felt bad enough leaving him alone. I’m glad you came by.” 

“Oh. Me, too.” 

“Have you had lunch yet?” 

And then he’s out again. 

~~~ 

A few minutes later, he feels a hand combing through his hair. He hopes it’s Reggie, but when he opens his eyes, the first face he sees is his mom’s. 

“How are you feeling, sweetie?” 

Alex _definitely_ would have forgotten to fake sick if not for his mom’s reminder. “Better,” he mumbles as he sits up. 

“Good. We made you lunch.” 

“We?” 

Reggie pokes his shin from the foot of his bed. “I made the hot chocolate.” 

Alex rolls his eyes with a smile, spotting a sandwich and a mug on his nightstand. 

His mom kisses the top of his head before moving to the doorway. “I’ll be back in a bit to check on you again.” 

Reggie pouts. “Aw, no forehead kiss for me, too?” 

Alex is about to shove him when Mrs. Mercer reenters to plant a kiss on Reggie’s forehead, his jaw now hanging open. “Are you staying for dinner, Reginald?” 

That’s when Alex gets an opportunity to shove Reggie, who still has a stunned expression a good ten seconds later. Reggie shakes his head. “No, my, uh, my parents’ll want me back home.” 

“Alright, dear.” And with that, she fully leaves, closing the door on her way out. 

Alex waits a moment, then nudges Reggie in the side with his foot. “No forehead kiss, huh?” 

“I just wanted to see if it would work!” 

Alex nudges him again. “I could’ve done that.” 

“Yeah, but it’s different!” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, no trace of joking in his voice. Alex _was_ right to worry about things changing since coming out. 

Reggie sighs, running a hand through his hair. “She’s _her_ , she’s— she’s a mom. I don’t think my mom’s ever done that, and she probably never will. And, obviously, if you did that, it wouldn’t be the same because you’re not a mom, and also… you’re _you_.” He softens, and Alex swears he can see stars in Reggie’s eyes. “You’re Alex.” 

“I hope that’s a compliment” is all Alex can say in response. He doesn’t think this is the most appropriate moment to ask about everything tied to those words, that look, the way Reggie finally moves closer on the bed to brush a hand through his hair and insist, _It is, I promise_. But they’ll get to that point eventually. 

Someday. 

* * *

“I like you like this.” 

“What?” 

Reggie pokes Alex in the cheek as they do homework on the couch before rehearsal, awaiting Bobby and Luke’s inevitably late arrival. “ _Happy_.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You look like you can breathe again,” Reggie says as if the answer is obvious. 

Oh. 

_Oh._

Okay. Definitely not a small crush. 

* * *

“Reginald, what a surprise! How are you?” 

“I’m good, um, I was actually wondering where Alex is? He missed practice and I wanted to check in.” 

“He’s helping me with dinner. Come inside.” 

From his hiding spot in the kitchen, Alex sucks in a breath. He didn’t _mean_ to skip, but he can’t face Reggie. Not like this. He doesn’t have much say in the matter once his mom starts dragging him over to his friend. 

Reggie’s smile drops. “Dude, what the hell?” Alex tries shying his face away but Reggie hooks a finger under his chin, gently maneuvering him to inspect his eye. “What happened?” 

Alex shrugs, then winces when Reggie brushes the edge of the bruise with his thumb. “It was just… some guys. But seriously, Reg, I’m okay. You don’t have to worry.” 

His voice softens. “All _you_ do is worry. Let me.” Alex can feel his parents’ eyes boring into them but he listens anyway. “Did they get you anywhere else?” 

Alex shakes his head but immediately gives himself away when Reggie puts a hand on his shoulder and he hisses. 

“Who did this?” 

“Reg—” 

“I want names, 'Lex.” 

He hesitates. “These guys on the football team, Derek and Kyle, I think.” Alex looks up in time to see a fire flash in Reggie’s eyes before he storms out. “Reg—” 

He chases after Reggie, barely catching up until they reach the studio — if they weren’t so preoccupied with the band, maybe Reggie would be the star of the track team. Luke and Bobby jump at the sudden entrance, guitars in hand, as Reggie makes a beeline for something behind the drum set: a baseball bat. Alex forgot about it, but the sight of it throws him back to the night he came out to Reggie. 

_“If anyone gives you shit, then you’re gonna have to bail me, Bobby, and Luke out of jail… I gotta put my baseball bat to use.”_

Reggie strips off his leather jacket and flannel, leaving only his black tank top and skinny jeans, and throws them on the chair across from Luke and Bobby, who remain confused but unspeaking. “Van, _now_ ,” he orders, already on his way out. The boys follow, including Alex who can’t stammer out an excuse in time. 

And that’s how they end up parked in front of the house next door to Derek’s with a plan for revenge, much to Alex’s disapproval (thankfully, he gets to stay in the van). Bobby will spray paint something on the side of Derek’s car, Luke will greet him with a punch to the face, and Reggie will use his bat to smash… something. 

It’s incredibly stupid, it’s uncharacteristically violent, and these dumbasses won’t listen to Alex no matter how much he tries to steer them away from the idea. 

They’ll hesitate when it comes to the parents. 

When Alex gets another anxiety attack because they keep going on about how he’s the perfect son, the beautiful marriage he’ll have, the bright future coming his way as long as he follows the plan they lay out for him. 

When Bobby’s parents are busy at work again and can’t make it to a gig, even though they promised _this_ would be the one, and he comes home to see them eating dinner without him, as if this is just another casual evening without any other commitments. 

When Luke gets into his third argument of the week with his mom because she thinks he should improve his grades, and why won’t he work as hard in school as Alex and Reggie do, and how he should spend more time on school and less on music. 

When Reggie shows up late, wiping tears away and sniffling as he grabs his bass because he just wants to start practice already, and he can’t stop apologizing after being caught in the crossfire of his parents fighting, and it takes weeks until he mentions being the subject of it and nothing else. 

But none of them live with the assholes that went after Alex. For once, they have a voice to stand up and defend themselves, and, god, Alex _knows_ they’ll jump at the chance to be his heroes, even if their methods are completely idiotic. So, yeah, maybe Alex won’t fight them _too_ hard about it, but he _will_ continue advising them to tone it down. 

“You _really_ don’t have to do this,” Alex insists after Luke and Bobby leave to take their places. 

“I’m not gonna let some assholes get away with hurting you,” Reggie spits before going. He’s too fired up about this. It’s unrecognizable. It’s _terrifying_. If there’s anything he inherited from his father, it’s the ability to scare people with a glance when he’s pissed off, but that’s a thought Alex plans on keeping locked away forever. 

Alex doesn’t watch — he can’t be considered a witness in court if he doesn’t see anything — but from the sounds of it, he thinks it goes according to plan. Bobby comes back first, starting the car in preparation for their getaway. Then there’s yelling and glass breaking and Luke and Reggie jump into the car, completely elated, barely closing their doors in time as Bobby drives. 

“That was _amazing_ ,” Luke announces on their way to the next house. “Alex, you should’ve seen him—” 

Reggie grabs Luke’s shoulder over the seat. “Dude, I think you broke his nose.” 

“Dude, you broke his _windshield_ —” 

“Guys,” Alex interrupts. “This is too much. You don’t have to do this.” 

“You’re right,” Bobby agrees. 

“Thank you—” 

“But we _will_ , because these dicks deserve exactly what’s coming to them.” 

Alex sighs in defeat, opting to stare out the window soundlessly for the next few minutes. 

“Wish us luck?” Reggie asks after Bobby and Luke are gone, ready for the second round. He seems to be in a much better mood, like he’s coming back to his normal self. 

Alex rolls his eyes but softens. “Good luck.” 

Reggie grins and kisses him before hopping out of the van. 

It takes Alex a minute to register. 

Reggie kissed him. 

_Reggie kissed him._

Maybe it was the adrenaline. Definitely the adrenaline. Or he completely missed Alex’s cheek. The cheek and the lips are very close on the face. It’s an easy mistake. 

But the way Reggie pulled him forward with a gentle tug on his shirt and one hand on his cheek… that was deliberate. And maybe… _not_ an accident? 

The victory is short-lived. There are too many voices yelling this time. Glass still shatters, but there’s more thudding afterward. Alex turns around in his seat, although his vision is obscured by bushes and trees lining the front yard. From what he can make out, Luke tackles Kyle on the driveway while Reggie and Bobby run back. Luke joins a second later with a bloody nose and then they’re back on the road. 

Alex searches through the center console until he finds a pack of tissues, then tosses it into Luke’s lap. The _one day_ he doesn’t have time to grab his fanny pack is when they need it the most. “Lean forward, not back,” he instructs, sliding back in his seat. “Now, who’s gonna tell me what the _fuck_ just happened?” 

“I think Derek called him because he swung— _fuck!_ ” Reggie hisses as he leans forward and that’s when Alex sees it. 

Broken glass is embedded across Reggie’s back and shoulders, little trails of blood soaking the straps of his tank top. 

“Jesus, Reg—” 

“'Lex—” 

“Don’t even try it.” 

~~~ 

And that’s how they end up in the emergency room. 

Bobby is free of injury besides a few scrapes (thank fucking goodness, since he was checked for a concussion and he literally _drove_ ). Luke has his bloody nose and a few bruises. The doctors check Alex — although he wasn’t involved, but the rest of the guys insisted, due to his earlier fight — and he’s bruised in more places than he planned on sharing. 

Now Reggie lays face down on a hospital bed, after swearing to follow a life of pacifism, gripping Alex and Bobby’s hands on either side of him as Luke threads fingers through his hair. A doctor has been picking out the broken glass for the past few minutes, only slightly annoyed by the guys’ lingering presence. 

“You sure you don’t want anesthesia, kid?” the doctor asks. “You’ll feel better in the long run.” 

“Used to it,” Reggie mutters, followed by a wince, and that’s not the response any of them wanted to hear. 

Alex kneels down to his eye level, dropping his voice to a whisper, just loud enough for the two of them. “Reg, baby.” 

Reggie turns his face to meet Alex’s gaze, a smirk dancing on his lips. He was right. The pet name _does_ call attention. 

“Focus on me, okay?” 

Reggie gives him a slight nod, his smile fading with another wince. 

And then their parents come in. Well, just Luke and Alex’s — Reggie and Bobby’s didn’t answer the phone. 

“You four are _so_ lucky those boys didn’t call the police” is the first thing Mrs. Patterson says upon arrival. 

“Mom, they—” 

“I don’t care what _they_ did, or why you felt like you had to do something,” Mrs. Patterson says, voice wavering. “I’m just glad you kids are alive.” 

“Mom—” 

“ _I_ care!” Mr. Mercer huffs. “My son has already been in one fight today, and these boys dragged him out for another?” 

“We didn’t let him do anything!” Bobby cuts in. 

“Then why—” 

Reggie hisses loudly, gripping Alex’s hand until his knuckles turn white as the doctor pulls out a particularly big piece of glass. 

“Why did you four go after those kids?” Mr. Mercer asks, calmly finishing his thought. “And why the hell did my son get into a fight?” 

The group falls silent. 

“We don’t know,” Luke finally answers. 

“You beat up some kids for no reason?” 

“They hurt Alex, that’s enough—” 

“Nobody fucks with Alex,” Reggie mumbles into the bed, but it’s loud enough to halt the conversation for an extra second. 

“Alexander, sweetie,” Mrs. Mercer starts, “what happened?” 

His heart drops. He can’t tell them the real story. He can’t explain how Derek and Kyle caught him watching Reggie during gym class. Or when Reggie kept drawing hearts on his notes during chemistry. Or when Luke held his hand after lunch when they thought the hallway was empty. And how Derek and Kyle took it upon themselves to _fix_ him after school. 

“They said shit about the band,” Alex lies. “I got defensive and… then everything else happened.” 

“This band, I swear…” Mrs. Patterson mutters. 

Luke puts a hand on Bobby’s shoulder. “Alex, you didn’t have to do that.” 

“Yeah, well, you guys didn’t need to go on your little revenge adventure, or whatever, but here we are.” 

Reggie points at him, keeping their hands clasped. “I _did_ promise we would go to jail for you.” 

“Reg, I swear—” 

“Nobody is going to jail, alright?” Mr. Patterson cuts in. 

The boys nod wordlessly. 

The doctor finishes working in the painfully awkward silence created by the families. She bandages Reggie’s back, signs off on a prescription for pain medication — because it _will_ hurt later, despite his protests — and reluctantly gives him a container full of the broken glass bits — his request, of course. 

“I just think it’s cool!” 

Alex makes Reggie wear his hoodie out. He stupidly left his extra clothes at the studio and the doctor had to cut open his shirt, and Alex insists none of them want to see him walk around half-naked, which gets a laugh and a wink from Reggie. 

Bobby and the Pattersons argue over who will take him home — their own residences, not his — which ends in Bobby conceding. But when they part ways in the parking lot, Reggie pulls all the boys into a bone-crushing hug, no matter how much they warn him of injuring himself further. 

~~~ 

So. 

Maybe. 

_Maybe_. 

Alex sneaks out. 

On a school night. 

(Oops.) 

“Dude, what are you doing here?” is Luke’s response when Alex taps on his window. 

“You didn’t think I was gonna miss boys’ night, did you?” That’s rich coming from him, considering _the entirety of the last month_. 

But Luke lets him in — the guy loves to cuddle. The more, the merrier, right? — and continues his questioning as he locks the window. “Everything okay at home?” 

Alex nods instinctively. “Yeah. Yeah, I just have to leave kind of early so they don’t find out I left.” 

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Luke furrows his brow, crossing his arms like a disappointed parent ready to lecture their kid. “You’re sneaking out, you’re getting into fights, you’re, um…” Okay, now he just looks confused. “You probably did another thing I don’t know about.” 

“Luke, I’m—” 

“Alex?” Reggie enters from the bathroom, sharing Luke’s same expression of bewilderment, but it quickly morphs into excitement as he launches himself into Alex’s arms for a hug. “Hey! Hi! I missed you!” He plants a sloppy kiss on Alex’s cheek. 

Alex tries fighting the blush creeping up his neck and if Luke notices, he doesn’t say anything as he pulls Reggie off. “My mom made him take the pain meds at dinner and he’s been a bit—” Reggie cuts him off with a cheek kiss, stealing Luke’s attention away from Alex. “C’mon, baby, let’s get you to bed, okay?” 

And then Reggie drags them into Luke’s bed, giggling as he sandwiches himself between them, his head on Luke’s chest and Alex’s arm around his waist like this is their natural sleeping position. He hums, content, pressing small kisses to Luke’s chest until he’s snoring only a few minutes later. 

Luke wriggles an arm free, stretching over the pillows until it lands under Alex’s neck, the perfect spot to thread fingers through his hair. “Hey, Alex?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I think he likes you.” 

“Well, yeah. I’m his best friend.” 

“No, I meant—” Luke stops playing with his hair. “I thought I was his best friend.” 

“Maybe we’re both wrong and _Bobby’s_ his best friend.” 

Luke laughs, nudging him in the back of his head before continuing. “I mean, he kept talking about how much he misses you. And, like, he mentioned how much he loves your smile and your voice and how you call him _baby_ —” 

“I only did that once—” 

“And he talked about it for five minutes straight.” 

Oh. 

He can smell Reggie’s mint shampoo, the reminiscent leather that sticks to his skin after wearing his jacket for too long, and the sanitizer the doctor used to clean his back. He can feel his steady breathing, his heart beating, his warmth and love overpowering any potential negative energy that could enter the room. He’s surrounded in it every day when Reggie laughs too hard at his own jokes, when band practice runs late because Luke and Bobby decide they need to tweak lyrics _again_ and Reggie will sit with Alex on his drum stool that was built to fit only one person, and when Reggie cling to him late at night and Alex can’t stop thinking about how much it will hurt when they have to let go. 

“He likes my voice?” is how Alex manages to respond. 

Luke smiles, rubbing his thumb over Reggie’s knuckles. “He wouldn’t shut up until I promised to write more solos for you.” 

_Oh._

That’s… nice to think about. Not the solos, but _Reggie_. 

Just as Alex is about to press a kiss to the top of his head, Reggie grumbles in his sleep, turning around to bury his face in Alex’s chest. 

“Told you.” 

Alex chooses not to react to Luke's quip and give him the benefit of teasing either of them over another new thing. He doesn’t miss Luke’s smile weakening, though, like he’s thrown off by the idea of Reggie possibly having a crush on Alex, or maybe the other way around? 

Instead, Alex pulls Reggie’s leg to wrap around his waist. It inevitably happens in the middle of the night; Alex is just speeding up the process and lowering the chances of Reggie kneeing him in the crotch (again). He sends Luke a silent _Come here_ because that boy is too far away to cuddle and they both know it. Luke keeps one arm around Alex and holds Reggie with the other, kissing behind his ear with a hum. 

Falling asleep next to them is… an experience. They’ve shared beds in the past. They’ve cuddled excessively into the night, tangled up in each other’s limbs the next morning. But now, with the way he feels about them, and Luke voicing his suspicions of Reggie’s feelings, Alex feels… _safe_. 

~~~ 

Following _The Incident_ , as Sunset Curve dubbed it, Reggie has a newfound confidence. 

He’s been more affectionate with the guys than normal — second place to the level of Luke. He’ll sling an arm over Bobby when they stand next to each other, put a head on his shoulder at lunch. His hands will linger on Luke’s back when he passes by, move stray hairs out of Luke’s face as he writes, and hold his arm as they walk together after rehearsal. He’ll cling to Alex’s side when they should be doing homework, link their pinkies under the desk when Alex gets anxious in math class, and pull him onto his lap for prolonged hugs as the other guys work on guitar riffs. 

And Alex _really_ likes it, and Reggie is probably aware of how much it flusters him, so he might as well add some fuel to the fire, even in the few free minutes before chemistry class starts. “I like your arms.” 

Reggie scrunches his nose in disbelief. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” Alex says quietly, opening his notebook in an attempt to pass this off as a casual comment. “They’re hot.” 

…which leads to Reggie taking off his flannel and tying it around his waist. He’s wearing a new bandage under one of Luke’s sleeveless shirts. Which means he either stole some of Luke’s wardrobe, or he hasn’t been home in three days, but that will be the subject of a later conversation. 

“Better?” Reggie asks with a smirk, but his voice gives away his desperation for approval. 

Alex’s face heats up, so he nods silently, biting his tongue inside his mouth, not trusting himself to speak without embarrassing himself. Reggie beams, but falters when his eyes drift past Alex. 

Kyle scowls at them from across the room, and Reggie responds by grinning wider. “Hey, Kyle! I missed you!” 

What the fuck? “Reg—” 

But Reggie waves him off, speaking exaggeratedly loud. “Oh, don't worry. He’s just shy. I’ll go over there.” 

He almost leaves their lab table, but Alex pulls him down by the back of his shirt. “What are you doing?” 

“We’re _friends_ , Alex. He’s a big softie.” Reggie is smiling _too_ much and Alex doesn’t trust the way Reggie is overdoing it. He waves at Kyle, blowing him a kiss, and, oh, god, Alex does _not_ like how this is going. “Oh, now he’s coming over!” 

And he is, and there’s no time for either of them to move, and their one exit is blocked by the students coming in before the bell, and— 

“What the hell is your game here?” Kyle growls, and the rest of the classroom falls silent. All eyes are on them and Alex is _really_ hoping that a teacher will decide to show up within the next ten seconds. 

“I’m just being _nice_ ,” Reggie insists, lowering his voice. “Unless you have a problem? I know you don’t like using words…” He reaches a hand toward Kyle’s, but they both pull away at the last second. 

What. The. _Fuck_. 

If looks could kill, Reggie would be six feet under. “I know where you live.” 

“Yeah? And I was at your place the other night.” Technically, that’s not a lie. The band _did_ end up at Kyle’s in the evening, but the way Reggie phrases it… “And, Ky, the way you _touched_ me, _oh_ —” 

Kyle grabs him, twisting the collar of his shirt, and Reggie practically falls onto the table. He opens his mouth to speak but stops when Reggie glances down at his lips. 

To reiterate, if Alex hasn’t already expressed his thoughts on the situation, the best way to describe them would be _what the fuck is happening_. 

And then Kyle backs off, shoving Reggie wordlessly. He drops a paper on their lab table as he slinks to the other side of the room, bystanders’ conversations quietly resuming. 

Reggie laughs as he unfolds the note, glancing to Alex as if he’s in on Reggie’s joke (and he’s _not_ , in case that wasn’t clear). But then his face goes pale and he crumples up the small piece of paper. 

“Reg?” Alex murmurs. 

He passes the note across the table. Reggie buries his head in his arms as Alex reads, completely understanding his instinct to hide for the rest of class. 

_My house @ 7. Or yours?  
_ _— K_

~~~ 

“Kyle, as in the guy who almost killed you and Alex?” 

Luke has taken up Alex’s habit of anxiously pacing around the studio in an effort to decipher Kyle’s note. He and Bobby are still working through it, or maybe they don’t want to believe its implications, although Alex and Reggie understood it right after reading. Alex spent the entire chemistry class zoned out and he’s sure Reggie’s mind was running a similar course. 

“There’s no fucking way you’re going,” Bobby decides. 

“I thought that was obvious, _Robert_.” 

“I’m just _clarifying_ —” 

“What if I _did_ go?” Reggie interrupts from his spot in Alex’s lap. Alex has been rooting them to the sofa since the band meeting began, refusing to loosen his grip in case Reggie even considers doing something stupid. Like this. 

Luke stops dead in his tracks. “Don’t you fucking dare.” 

“I’m just saying, maybe—” 

“ _Maybe_ what? Maybe he’ll turn out to be a nice guy and apologize for sending you to the emergency room? Maybe he’ll understand why I punched him, and why you and Bobby wrecked his car? Or, you know, _maybe_ he’ll finish the job.” 

“I didn’t mean—” 

“Then what _did_ you mean, Reg?” 

Reggie shrinks in on himself, resorting to play with his fingers instead of making eye contact. “I don’t know,” he says, voice wavering. 

Luke sits next to Bobby on the coffee table in front of them, immediately softening. “You’re not… _actually_ considering this… right?” When Reggie shrugs, Luke puts a hand on his knee. “Reg, you deserve better—” 

“What if I don’t?” Reggie snaps. “We all end up like our parents, so why shouldn’t I just— why shouldn’t I _give in_ and let the dumb cycle continue?” 

The boys fall silent. 

That’s— that’s _not_ _true_. There isn’t a cycle. Alex can’t be like them. He can’t. He _won’t_. His parents could be considered decent people, if one looks past the mild homophobia that will probably result in him being kicked out. If he ever has kids, and if he somehow raises them to be terrified of telling him their truth— 

“I don’t wanna be like them,” Bobby says. “I don’t want my kids to hate me and think I never have time for them.” 

“They’re not gonna hate you,” Alex assures him. “We _are_ gonna teach them to make fun of you, though.” 

Bobby gives him a weak smile as Luke finds his hand. 

“I don’t know if I want kids,” Luke adds. “But if I do, I’m gonna support them so much, they’ll get sick of me.” He smiles at the guys, trying to lighten the mood, though his words are strained. 

Alex hooks his chin over Reggie’s shoulder as they lean into each other. 

“I can’t risk screwing up someone else’s life,” Reggie breathes, barely audible. 

“You won’t, Reg,” Alex whispers. 

He won’t. Alex is one hundred percent certain. 

~~In a cruel way, he’ll be right.~~

~~~ 

“You’re not gonna keep flirting with him, right?” As much as Alex tries to make it sound otherwise, his voice drips with jealousy. 

Luke perks up from his spot on Reggie’s lap, demanding, “Reg, you— what?” 

At some point, they all migrated to cuddle on the couch, any plans of rehearsal abandoned for the rest of the day in favor of just _being_. (And trapping Reggie.) (But, like, lovingly.) (Just in case he has any more doubts.) 

“It wasn’t _really_ flirting,” Reggie explains. “Homophobes hate it when people think they’re gay. It’s probably really mean and I feel kinda gross about it—” 

“Then stop flirting with him,” Luke orders, a storm brewing behind his eyes. “He’s clearly interested and we don’t want you getting hurt and I hate him.” 

With a small nod, Reggie gives in quickly, not one to argue with Luke when he’s in one of his _moods_. 

“You hate him?” Alex asks, quirking an eyebrow. 

Luke scoffs and gawks at him like he said he’s dropping out of school to become a weatherman. “You don’t?” 

“ _Hate_ is a very strong word—” 

“He’s an asshole who can’t deal with the fact that he might be gay so he beats people up and he’s trying to steal our Reggie. Of course I hate him.” 

_Our Reggie._

A burning sensation sears through Alex’s chest. Not because of Luke’s outright possessiveness, but because of his blatant explanation. It makes sense. There’s so much jealousy and rage pent up inside him because someone _hit_ Reggie and then hit _on_ him, and Alex has been so preoccupied with worrying about Reggie that he hasn’t allowed himself to feel anything else. 

And, fuck, why shouldn’t Alex have a stronger sense of loathing toward a guy who literally beat him up because he looked at his friends a certain way? 

Alex tightens his grip around Reggie’s waist ever so slightly, easily deciding, “I hate him, too.” 

“Guys—” 

“We’re not gonna let him touch you again, Reg.” Alex now understands the intensity that seared through Reggie like a solar flare only a few days ago. He expects to hear some kind of protest, but instead, Reggie hums against him, snuggling closer as Luke puts his head in Reggie’s lap again. 

“You guys are adorable,” Bobby comments for the first time in the conversation. Luke pokes him in the stomach with his foot and they laugh before the group returns to their comfortable quiet. 

~~~ 

Reggie kissed him. 

_Reggie kissed him._

And Alex _still_ hasn’t found a way to talk to him about it. 

_Fuck_. 

* * *

**October 1993.**

That Saturday, the two of them go straight to Reggie’s house after a gig. Alex told his parents they were all crashing at the studio since they would be done pretty late and it would be easier to go home the next morning instead of the middle of the night. Surprisingly, they were okay with it, as long as he made it back home in time for church. Alex could come in through the front door instead of the window after staying at Reggie’s house. 

(So when Bobby drops them off after dinner, a puzzled Luke in the passenger seat, Alex _swears_ he catches Bobby wink at them.) 

They didn’t have a label on their relationship. They weren’t romantic, per se, but they didn’t exactly feel platonic anymore. Reggie was definitely taken down a peg by Kyle’s unforeseen advances, but he still keeps up the extra contact with Alex the most (then Luke, then Bobby, although Alex doesn’t want to compare. But if it _is_ a competition, he’s winning). 

They were always touching in some way as they fell asleep and woke up, pressed against one another more often than not. Every time they were apart, especially during band practice and school, Alex held in the urge to pull him closer and never let go. On the flip side, Reggie seemed to give in to his own impulses once they were alone, so Alex got to hold him anyway. 

And on top of all this, Reggie had been calling him _'L_ _ex_. He can’t remember when it started, but he recalls hearing it in the quietest parts of the night, between intertwined fingers and tangled legs. It found its way into band practice, then school, all while keeping its intimate appeal. 

So, Alex didn’t want to bring up the nature of their relationship outside of their nights together, fearing the change it might bring, until… 

“'Lex?” 

Alex hums, eyes still closed, feeling Reggie angle his head up. 

“I think I’m in love with you.” 

Alex’s heart pounds in his ears, which means Reggie can definitely hear it as he lays on top of him and it takes everything in him not to kiss him right there but he’s probably just tired, which will make everything so much worse when he learns of his accidental confession that really means nothing and _wow_ , Alex should not be allowed to think right now. 

He opens his eyes halfway and presses a kiss to Reggie’s forehead. “Go back to sleep. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

“Okay.” He kisses Alex’s chest before laying his head down. 

Wait, no. Not his chest. 

His _heart_. 

Oh, man. 

~~~ 

When Alex wakes up, he’s cold. Reggie is already awake, sitting against the wall. 

“Time to talk?” Reggie nods as Alex sits up. “Look—” 

“I like you,” Reggie starts, cutting him off. “I thought I’d get over it, but you’re just so… _you_. And I wasn’t just talking out of my butt last night. I love you, as a friend, but also more? I just know that I really want to kiss you again, and if I don’t do it soon, I might explode.” 

Oh. 

“You’ll explode?” Really? That’s what Alex chooses to talk about? 

Reggie groans as his head falls on Alex’s shoulder. “Yeah. Maybe.” 

“Well, don’t do that, because then _I’ll_ be the one cleaning it up.” That gets a chuckle from both of them. 

“I hate you.” 

“You just confessed your love for me.” 

“I can feel two things. My head’s a mess.” 

Alex kisses his temple. “I like your head.” 

“Would you still like it if I said I might like Luke, too?” 

“Like or love?” 

Reggie doesn’t answer. Out of all the people in the world, Alex’s crush just so happens to like him _and_ his other crush, too. Wow. What the fuck. Okay. 

“I might like him, too,” Alex says, finding Reggie’s hand. “Or love. Still figuring that out, too.” 

“He’s a popular boy.” 

“He’s insufferable.” 

“And pretty.” 

Alex laughs, squeezing the other boy’s hand. “Hey, Reg?” 

He sits up. “Yeah?” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Reggie nods, and his lips are on Alex’s in a second. It’s short, but Alex can feel Reggie smile on him before kissing him again. And again. And again and again and again, until Alex steadies them, slowing down the urgent pace and their touches linger, and he swears Reggie tastes like everything he’s dreamed the stars of being. His heart beats a mile a minute, especially when Reggie slides a hand over his chest as he settles in Alex’s lap, trailing kisses down his neck, focusing on a spot on his collarbone for who knows how long until— 

“Fuck.” Reggie pulls away abruptly. “You’re gonna be late.” 

The nightstand clock reads 6:45am and Alex jumps out of bed, pulling on his shoes. Reggie throws his favorite flannel at him, insisting he’ll be cold without it, and with no time to argue, Alex puts it on under his jean jacket. The house is still silent, which means Alex can make his escape out the front door. Reggie pulls him down for a quick kiss goodbye before sending him off. 

Alex feels warm as he makes his way to his house. Not because of the weather, maybe because of the flannel, but definitely because of Reggie. 

_Fuck_. But, like, in a good way. In the best way. 

As he quietly opens the front door, he lets out a sigh when he discovers he’s the only person awake. If his parents had been getting ready and he _still_ wasn’t back, he’d be in a hellhole of trouble. 

He almost jumps when he hears his sister enter his bedroom. Usually, she isn’t home. She’s at her college dorm, being five years older, but that doesn’t stop her from being involved in her brother’s life, even when she’s on the verge of snooping _too_ much. 

“Long night?” Natalie asks, closing the door so their parents don’t eavesdrop. 

“Yeah, we had a gig, and then we all slept at the studio.” 

“That’s interesting, because I went by the studio, and you weren’t there.” Natalie crosses her arms. “I’m not mad, I just want to know what story I’ll have to tell mom and dad if they find out you lied.” 

Alex can’t think of an excuse. The studio is his go-to, then Luke or Bobby’s, _then_ Reggie’s, although it might be smarter to put him higher on the list. If Alex mentions Reggie as much as the other guys, then he’ll be on equal footing in the eyes of Alex’s parents, and they won’t suspect one guy over another. On the other hand— 

“Is that a hickey?” 

“What?” 

Alex checks in the mirror on the back of his door in case Natalie is screwing with him. Sure enough, a red mark appears on the base of his neck. 

“You snuck out to see someone!” Natalie whispers intensely. “I need a name.” 

“Uh…” He looks down at his hands but that draws her attention to the flannel. 

She holds the hem between two fingers, examining the fabric. “Doesn’t that guy in your band wear this all the time?” Her words are curious, but he knows she’ll connect the dots eventually. 

“Please don’t tell mom and dad.” Alex hopes with everything in his heart that she’ll be understanding and won’t suddenly hate him because he’s utterly _screwed_ if this conversation ends badly. 

It takes a few seconds for Natalie to think, but when she comprehends what he means, there’s a visible shift on her face. “You’re dating the band guy.” 

“ _Please_.” 

Natalie wraps him in a hug and Alex’s heart stops. “Which one is he?” 

What the hell is happening? “Um, the bassist. He’s the one that always jumps around onstage.” 

Natalie pulls back. “Oh, he’s _cute_.” 

No, seriously, what’s going on? “Nat—” 

“What’s his name?” 

“Reggie.” He relaxes. Sort of. He doesn’t feel as tense as he did at the beginning of this interaction, but he _does_ feel better at the sound of the name rolling off his tongue. 

“Okay, I can’t wait to meet him at your next show.” 

Alex raises an eyebrow. “Haven’t you already met him?” 

“Yeah, but I have to _formally_ meet him as your,” she lowers her voice, eyes on the closed door, “ _you know_.” Alex laughs as she pulls him down for another hug, whispering in his ear, “I don’t care who you date, as long as they make you happy.” 

And that’s all he needs to hear before shedding a few tears. Alex can’t stop smiling because he can actually talk about his boyfriend (wait, are they dating? That wasn’t fully established. Oops. That’ll be their next conversation) to someone who accepts him and wants to hear about their relationship. 

But that’s the end of his and Natalie’s talk as voices come from the hallway, signaling his parents’ awakening. 

~~~ 

Band practice starts… rough. 

“We think you guys are hiding something,” Luke announces as Alex and Reggie walk in. 

“It’s just Luke,” Bobby corrects. “I’m not getting roped into this.” 

Alex and Reggie exchange glances. They had just gotten together that morning and officially decided to date (exclusively, but it’s a gray area if Luke tries to do something with either or both of them. Damn their mutual crush) on the trip to the studio. They weren’t trying to tell Natalie; that just happened on its own. But Luke _did_ watch the two of them go to Reggie’s house for the night without giving the other guys much warning of their private plans. 

Luke crosses his arms. “Guys, we tell each other everything. What’s going on?” 

Alex’s throat goes dry. He’s _awful_ at hiding his panic, and Luke’s face turns from upset to worry. 

Reggie squeezes his arm. “I got this.” 

What? Got _what_ , exactly? “Reg—” 

“I’ll be okay.” He’s making their “secret” sounds like it’s all about him. Unless he’s about to say something that _is_ all about him that Alex doesn’t know about. Oh, no. More panic. 

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping,” Reggie explains. “Alex comes over a few times a week to just… stay with me. It’s not a big deal, which is why we didn’t say anything, but I guess that just made it a problem. I’m sorry, guys.” 

“I’m sorry, too,” Alex adds, looking from the two guys to the floor. 

Within seconds, they’re all in a group hug, and Luke is lecturing the two of them on how they shouldn’t be apologizing for this, and that he’s sorry, and he loves them. 

“You know you guys can sleep here, right?” Bobby offers. “My parents are cool with you crashing if you need.” 

“Thanks, but my parents aren’t cool with me sneaking out, especially for a guy,” Alex says in a mild attempt to lighten the mood. 

Luke furrows his brows. “Then why doesn’t Reggie go over to your place instead?” His voice isn’t accusatory, he’s just perplexed. 

Alex hesitates. He knows it’ll be okay. In his heart, he _knows_ this. Bobby seemed to be fine with the idea of Alex sleeping over at Reggie’s, and Luke is… well, he’s _Luke_. But the doesn’t stop the anxiety. Another glance to Reggie. Another arm squeeze, heart pounding, deep breath— “I’m gay.” And eyes shut as he waits for whatever hit might come. 

It never does. 

Instead, the group hug resumes. Tears of joy, cheek kisses, and the words _We love you_ float through the studio, and Alex could not imagine having a better group of friends than his own. 

* * *

There are less stifled middle-of-the-night tears. 

Reggie will still cling to his shirt like it’s the only thing connecting them. He’ll tilt his head, finding Alex’s cheek with his nose, allowing Alex to close the distance, breaking through the darkness and the uncertainty of consciousness. Reggie leads softly, quiet and desperate, to ensure they’re both still there, and neither of them slipped away in a moment beyond control. 

And then Alex will pull the blanket back up to Reggie’s shoulders, surrounding him in unwavering warmth. 

* * *

Alex knew things would be okay, especially with what’s been going on between him and Reggie for the past few weeks, but that didn’t prevent him from having _some_ worry before coming out to his band. 

Okay, maybe _a lot_ of worry. 

The fear that had been chasing him for the past few years completely disappeared, and they were on with band practice as usual. Like nothing changed, because nothing _had_ changed, as Reggie would insist, and Alex is so glad the guys are cool with him. Even with the knowledge in the back of his mind that they love him unconditionally, the reassurance does wonders for his self-esteem. 

He and Reggie didn’t mention their relationship. It felt more intimate to keep it private. It was fresh and new, like they were in a little bubble of happiness, and they were doing their best to keep it that way for as long as possible. 

And the happiness just increased when he was with the band, now that he didn’t have to worry about potentially hearing any homophobic remarks (it never happened in the past, but that didn’t prevent Alex from creating the fear in his head). 

But the anxiety makes its reappearance tonight. 

Sunset Curve had just played a small bar on the outskirts of Hollywood and Natalie came to watch them and meet the band, specifically Reggie, his boyfriend (his _boyfriend_!). She already knew all the guys, but this was different. Alex had never introduced a significant other to anyone, and this was his first time. He didn’t want to screw it up, even with the odds in his favor. 

He isn’t sure if the post-show adrenaline is helping or hurting his anxiety, but by the time he calls Reggie over to talk to Natalie, the beating of his heart is louder than their words. 

A hand on his shoulder brings him down enough to hear someone say, _'_ _Lex, you good?_ but he can barely manage a nod in response. Something pulls his head up and he’s looking into Reggie’s eyes, then his hand is on Reggie’s chest, following the heartbeat. A clouded voice says, _Breathe with me, 'Lex_ , and it feels like hours pass until he can listen and the world comes back into view. 

He’s with Reggie. Natalie stands a few feet away. Luke and Bobby are farther back, and it looks like they’ve stopped in the middle of loading Bobby’s van to watch him, to make sure he’s okay. They’re outside in the parking lot. He forgot they went outside, but the noise of the wind and nearby traffic reminds him. And he’s with Reggie. 

“I’ve got you.” Alex can finally match Reggie’s words to his voice before falling into his arms. 

~~~ 

“What was that?” Natalie asks. 

After loading the van, they all piled inside, Bobby and Natalie taking the front seats, Luke on a backseat, and Reggie and Alex taking the floor. 

“Nothing,” Alex mumbles, leaning into Reggie. She doesn’t know. She hasn’t been home when they’ve happened. 

“Alex.” He doesn’t want to talk about it, but he knows Reggie will nudge him into opening up. 

Thankfully, Luke answers for him, fingers carding through his hair. “He gets these, like, episodes where he can’t breathe, or sometimes he’ll hyperventilate. One of us is usually with him.” 

“They’re called panic attacks,” Reggie adds. “That’s what the doctor said, right?” Alex gives a slight head shake, hoping Reggie understands that as a yes. 

Natalie hasn’t taken her eyes off him. “Do mom and dad know?” 

Alex closes his eyes and breathes, “Yes.” He told the guys the opposite, and he doesn’t want to see the look on their faces when they figure it out. Reggie squeezes his hand, a silent gesture coaxing him to continue. 

“They were talking about the gay rights March on Washington on the news, and dad kept yelling at the TV and I couldn’t move, and he saw me freaking out, and he asked me if I was—” He swallows, forcing the word to burn down his throat instead of plaguing the air. “I just— I ran. I couldn’t—” Reggie snakes an arm around his waist, pulling him out of his head and back to safety. 

He feels a hand on his knee as Bobby speaks. “Alex, you told us these started over the summer. The march was in April.” 

“I’m sorry—” 

“’Lex, we love you.” Reggie presses a kiss to his forehead. “ _I_ love you. You don’t have to apologize for this, okay?” 

Alex nods against him as Luke kisses the top of his head and Bobby squeezes his knee before letting go, turning the key in the ignition. “We should probably head out so no one misses curfew, huh?” The guys hum in agreement. 

Natalie looks at all the guys, scanning their little family, then back to Alex. “I’ll see you at home.” She offers a small smile as she makes her way back to her own car. 

The guys shuffle around until they’re all in actual seats. Bobby drives them in silence, aside from the low volume of the radio, the purr of the engine, and a swear under his breath as a nearby driver makes a dangerous maneuver ahead of them. 

Unloading the van goes without a hitch. They all suggest staying with Alex for as long as he needs, curfew long forgotten. He lets them down gently, though Reggie refuses to let him walk home alone, prematurely kissing him goodbye at the studio, free from prying eyes of parents and band mates. 

Natalie’s watchful gaze shifts from over-involved to careful, another layer of protection between him and his parents. They don’t ask either kid about the gig. They ignore it. They brush it off, just like they do with every other gig, with Natalie not coming home every weekend, with Alex’s anxiety. Sweep it under the rug and straighten the picture-perfect family portraits. 

Alex’s panic attacks were new. His parents’ treatment was not. 

* * *

It was supposed to be a good day. 

They were in-and-out of sleep the whole night because Reggie’s parents never ceased their fighting. It was _still_ going when Alex woke up to leave. So, he did what any good boyfriend might have done in this situation: he invited Reggie to join his family at church. It was an excuse to _not_ be at his house, so Reggie quickly agreed. Mrs. Mercer offered to drive him, too, Alex had to tie Reggie’s tie in the car, and they ended up sitting with the Patterson family, so it was going smoothly overall. 

And then things went to shit. 

Something caught Reggie’s eye — he wouldn’t tell them _what_ — and he completely froze mid-sermon. Alex put a hand over his shaking knee, playing and drawing a simple rhythm with one finger — _circle, tap, circle, tap-tap_. Luke linked their pinkies and Reggie seemed to come back to earth. He assured them he was okay. 

But then he went silent for the whole drive home, aside from the small _Thank you_ to the Mercer parents for letting him join. 

So, really, Alex shouldn’t be surprised by the phone call that comes as his family sits down for dinner. 

“Don’t answer it,” his father grumbles as his mother makes her way to ignore him. 

“Alexander, it’s for you,” Mrs. Mercer calls from the kitchen. 

Confused, Alex accepts the phone when his mother shoves it into his hands and resumes dinner. He wraps the cord in his fingers and barely has time to greet the caller before they shout at him. 

“Dude! You need to get down to the studio _now_.” Bobby’s voice yells, but he doesn’t sound angry. It’s almost like he’s… worried? 

“Can it wait until after—” 

“It’s Reggie.” 

Alex drops the phone. It doesn’t hit the floor, thanks to his fingers entangled with the cord, but he nearly hits it into the wall in his panic to pick it up. “What the hell?” 

“Language!” his father barks from the dining room. 

“Sorry!” he calls back before turning to the phone again. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” Bobby starts, “he’s been laying on the couch for hours and he hasn’t eaten and he won’t talk to me or Luke and he won’t _move_.” 

“Shit.” 

“Alexander!” 

He yells back another apology. “This is my fault,” Alex decides. 

“No, it’s—” 

“Something happened at church this morning and he freaked out, I think? But—” 

“Since when does he go to church?” 

“Since I made him come with me because his parents don’t stop screaming and he doesn’t sleep and I probably fucking _broke_ him—” Alex sobs, trying to choke down a single breath. His dad doesn’t shout when he swears and Alex sends him a silent _Thank you_ because he’s anxious enough as it is. 

“Alex.” Bobby sounds a million times calmer than Alex feels. “It’s not your fault. Just, get here as soon as you can, okay? Bring some food. I have no idea what he might eat but it’s good to have options, right?” 

Alex nods before realizing Bobby can’t see it. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there soon.” 

“I love you, man.” 

“I love you, too, dude.”

The receiver clicks on Bobby’s end and the droning tone replays in Alex’s head. He hangs up and wipes his face with a paper towel near the sink, steadying himself against the counter. 

He remembers how to breathe. He has to. Closing his eyes, drawing with one finger, _circle, tap, circle, tap-tap_ , he pulls himself out — he _has to_ pull himself out — of the hole that will swallow him if he forgets how to breathe again and how to keep this stupid damn rhythm he made up for Reggie only a few hours ago. 

There’s a hand on his shoulder. “Alexander?” his mother asks. “What’s wrong?” 

_Reggie_. Alex shakes his head. “He— I— I have to go.” 

“What?” 

“Can I take dinner with me? It’s— it’s Reg, he’s—” Breathe, Alex, _breathe_. “We don’t _know_ what’s wrong, but he—” 

His mother nods as though she already knows the whole situation. “He needs his friends.” She pulls a few Tupperware containers out of a cabinet, packing leftovers and ordering Alex to do the same. 

~~~ 

Alex is a mess by the time his mom drops him off at Bobby’s house. 

She made him bring a cooler for food and utensils and water bottles and a few ibuprofen _just in case_ and she definitely went overboard but it’s the only thing keeping Alex from crying _again_. His tears have dried up, but he still can’t manage to speak without his voice shaking. 

When he opens the studio doors, Reggie is sitting up on the couch with his legs thrown over Luke’s. That’s progress. Luke has an arm around him, kissing his forehead, whispering indistinctly, but Reggie doesn’t react. Bobby sits on the table across from them, one hand on Reggie’s leg, the other on Luke’s. Alex sets the cooler down next to Bobby as he takes the seat on Reggie’s free side. 

“Hey, Alex is here,” Luke murmurs. “Do you—” He cuts himself off, like the air was knocked out of him, then he tightens his hold around Reggie, gently rocking him — a steady rhythm for him to focus on. “I’m not going anywhere. It’s okay.” 

Reggie nods against him and Luke locks his gaze with Alex. His eyes are red and his cheeks are streaked with tear tracks, and, knowing Luke, he probably didn’t even think to wipe them away with Reggie in his arms. He lifts an eyebrow, as if to ask _Can you?_ and it’s not even a question because Alex is scooting closer and opening his arms. 

“Alex is going to hold you now, okay?” Luke asks in a low voice. There’s no response. “I’ll still be right here, okay?” 

For a second, there’s hesitation. The next, Reggie clings to Alex’s torso like he’s been there the whole time. Alex holds his head with one hand and uses the other to pull Reggie’s legs onto his lap, snaking that arm around his waist afterward. 

“Reg, honey, it’s your 'Lex.” Reggie relaxes against him. “The guys told me you haven’t been eating?” Nothing. 

Alex locks eyes with Bobby, then looks to the cooler. Bobby gets his silent message, quietly opening it and pulling out the top box as Alex continues speaking. “It’s funny because I forgot to eat dinner.” 

Reggie sits up at this, nudging Alex’s chin on his way. There are too many dark circles under his eyes, but it doesn’t look like he’s been crying, and Alex can’t tell if that’s good or bad. There’s a slight expression of concern, but it’s mostly masked by fatigue. 

Typical Reggie, forgetting to eat all day, or ignoring it for some unknown reason, and immediately worrying about Alex’s state when he does some similar destructive behavior. 

Regardless, Alex goes on, opening the container Bobby set next to him. “I thought we could split a grilled cheese?” 

And there it is: the tiniest upturn of Reggie’s mouth. 

And that’s when Alex remembers: Reggie _hates_ being the only one eating if there are other people around. He’s never said it, but Alex has seen it in the way he won’t start his lunch until the rest of the guys have their food, too. He’ll offer half-finished granola bars before rehearsals or he’ll convince one of them to split a dessert if he finds something good on a venue’s menu after a gig. 

On top of that, he’s mentioned regularly eating small meals — some bullshit excuse about watching his diet — but, honestly, it wouldn’t surprise Alex if the Peterses forgot to feed their son, forcing him to make do with whatever he can. And, fuck, maybe Alex is jumping to conclusions, or maybe he’s right to assume Reggie watches their habits to make sure they _are_ eating. Good intentions on his part but, god, at what cost? 

So Alex breaks the sandwich in his hands, Reggie’s anxiety overriding his own, and takes a bite as he gives Reggie the other half. A few minutes pass, and Alex is starting his second sandwich, and Reggie _finally_ follows suit with his first piece. Luke sighs dramatically, burying his head into Reggie’s shoulder and hugging him from behind, clearly content with their progress. 

And Reggie _laughs_. 

And, _god_ , it’s a beautiful sound, even more so than usual since this is the first sound he’s made in hours. 

So, Alex says what comes to mind to keep this going instead of giving into his initial instinct to cry. “Water?” 

Reggie doesn’t have time to nod before Bobby hands Alex two water bottles, then one to Luke, and keeps another for himself. He catches onto the plan, but Luke still seems confused, until Bobby uses his head to point to the cooler (which doesn’t do much to clarify, but it’s some type of sign). 

“Hey, Alex, did you bring those fruit snacks?” Luke asks. 

“I think so?” 

Then Luke is digging through the cooler, tossing them each a little packet when he’s found his prize. 

And that’s when Alex gets an idea. He nudges Bobby’s knee with his foot. “Dude, is that mini TV  still in here?” 

Bobby shrugs. “It should be.” 

“How about an impromptu movie night?” he suggests. “We’re all here, we have a bunch of snacks…” 

…and it goes without saying, but Reggie hates when they all fuss over him, so this would be a good way to put the attention somewhere else. 

Bobby pops up, quickly finding the mini TV and dragging it in front of the sofa, along with a few VHS cassettes of flicks from past movie nights. He puts them all back except for one while Reggie is busy opening his water bottle. 

“The only movie we have is _Star Wars_.” 

Reggie freezes. 

“Which one?” Luke asks. 

“The fourth one,” Bobby reads the disc. “ _A New Hope_.” 

Alex sighs. “I guess we can suffer through it, right, guys?” 

They hum in agreement as Bobby plays the movie. He settles into the couch, accepting his new position as Luke’s headrest while Reggie leans against Alex. 

It’s nice, holding Reggie and playing a movie that’ll make him happy, despite the events of the day. It’s progress toward him opening up and relaxing, although slow, but Alex would dedicate all the time in the world if that meant hearing Reggie’s voice again. For now, they’ll watch _Star Wars_ and eat junk food and— 

The words _Please don’t leave me_ whispered against Alex’s neck, barely audibly. 

What? 

Holy fuck, _what_? 

It may as well have been a scream because of the way Alex and the guys freeze at the sentence that probably wasn’t even meant to be heard in the first place, until— 

“I’m sorry.” 

Bobby pauses the movie, Luke is still frozen, and Alex pulls Reggie as close as he possibly can. 

“We’re never— _I’m_ never _ever_ doing that, okay?” Alex kisses his temple, then his cheek. “We love you more than anything. _I_ love you _so much_.” Then his jaw, then his nose. “You know that, right?” He pulls back ever so slightly, just to see his face, but Reggie tightens his grip, shaking, and Alex feels him crying, and it takes everything in his power not to sob, too. “I love you,” he murmurs. “We’re never leaving you. Ever. You’re gonna get sick of us. 

“And there’s no way you’re getting rid of us,” Luke says into Reggie’s shoulder, throwing an arm over him and Alex, mumbling words of love between soft kisses. 

Bobby stretches to place a hand on Reggie's leg. “We love you, dude.” 

And that’s how they stay for hours, holding Reggie until his crying subsides and he falls asleep, quickly followed by the rest of them. 

~~The boys would hold up their promise because, in a few years, Reggie would be the first to leave, then Alex, then Luke.~~

~~~ 

Alex wakes up after a _thud_ and an _Ouch_ , opening his eyes to find Bobby on the floor and Luke pulling his feet up on the couch. Reggie is still asleep, thankfully, curled up in his lap. 

They must have left the lights on when they all fell asleep. It’s dark outside and the wall clock tells them it’s about 2am. 

“Did we wake him?” Luke whispers. 

Alex shakes his head, tracing circles into Reggie’s arm. 

The answer is all the permission Luke needs to cry, silent tears falling as he holds his head in his hands. Bobby gets back on the couch, pulling Luke to his chest and wiping his face with napkins from the coffee table. 

“Luke, it’s not your fault,” Alex says. He can’t imagine how long the other boy had resisted the urge to cry, putting up a brave front for them, only to have his walls crash down when Reggie can’t see it. 

“What— what are we supposed to do?” Luke breathes. He chokes back a sob and the sound makes Alex’s stomach twist. “We don’t even know what’s wrong and— and we can’t _help_ him, and he thinks we—” He cuts himself off. 

Reggie shifts and Alex runs a hand through his hair. “You know how he gets.” 

“Yeah,” Bobby sighs, “but it’s never this bad.” 

“Alex, how come _you’re_ not freaking out more?” Luke asks. 

Honestly? He has no idea. “I feel like… if I think too much, I’m gonna have a panic attack, and that’s just gonna make things worse, and then I’ll spiral, and he’ll stop talking completely, and his parents will blame us if they notice, and then—” 

Reggie shifts again, bringing Alex out of his head before he goes too far, groaning and grabbing at his sweatshirt. 

“Luke, that song you wrote for Reggie—” 

“I didn’t—” 

“Not the time. Can you hum it?” 

And Luke does. His hushed rendition of “Lakeside Reflection” eases Reggie from a mid-sleep fit and his breathing steadies against Alex’s neck. 

“How did you—” 

“It distracts him when his parents argue for, like, ever.” 

“No, how’d you know it’s for him?” 

Alex shrugs with the shoulder Reggie isn’t clinging to. “We skipped the first day of this school year because he wanted to go to the lake.” 

“I remember that.” Bobby chuckles. “He said he wanted to put nature sounds on our country album.” 

Luke rolls his eyes. “We can do country when we’re, like, thirty.” 

“That’s sooner than I expected from you, Patterson.” 

Alex is about to say something when Reggie jerks up, panting and twisting the fabric of his sweatshirt. 

“Reg, it’s Alex, can you—” 

“No… no…” He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Reg, honey, I’m here—” 

“No, you’re— you’re not.” 

“I am, Reg. I’m with Luke and Bobby.” The guys take this as a cue to move to either side of Alex. 

“Of course you are.” 

“Yeah, we love you—” 

Reggie’s whole body trembles. “You’re gonna leave me for them.” 

“I’m not,” Alex promises, rubbing Reggie’s back with his palm. “I’m not leaving you.” 

“Ev— everyone leaves.” 

“Reg, that’s not—” 

“No, they’re— they’re _here_ and they’re easier to— to— when your wife and— and kid aren’t—” Reggie cuts himself off with a sob, tearing himself away from Alex’s sweatshirt and gripping his wrist instead. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” 

Alex moves a hand between Reggie’s, freeing him of his death grip, and soothing the skin with his thumb, murmuring, “It’s okay, baby. I’m not leaving you, I promise.” He places Reggie’s hand over his heart, mimicking the boy’s go-to move whenever he has a panic attack. Alex uses his own hand to wipe Reggie’s tears. “I’m here, Reg. You can look.” 

Reggie hesitates, still shaking, before peeking an eye open, then both, scanning Alex’s face as if committing it to memory. Then he turns his head to see Bobby holding his knee, then he twists around to find Luke behind him, before leaning into Alex and accepting his reality. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Reg, it’s okay,” Luke croaks, throat sore from his earlier crying. “It’s okay. You’re with us and you’re safe.” 

Reggie nods, sighing. 

“Reg.” Bobby squeezes his knee lightly. “Can you tell us what happened?” 

“He—” Reggie looks around at all of them, as if waiting for permission. Alex kisses his temple and Reggie buries his head in his hands. “He cheated.” 

Alex’s heart drops, even though he knows the accusation isn’t toward him. “Who?” 

“My— my dad,” Reggie says. “He was at church with _her_ , and he looked right— right at me like he was gonna— like—” 

“He’s not doing anything, Reg.” Luke wraps an arm around his waist, pulling Reggie in the middle of himself and Alex, and resting his head on Reggie’s shoulder. 

Reggie settles between them, surrounded by his friends’ warmth. “I like this.” 

Alex cups his cheek and frowns. “You’re still in your church clothes.” 

“I haven’t had time to change,” Reggie says with a shrug. 

Bobby laughs. “You wore skinny jeans to church?” 

“They’re my nicest pair!” 

“I’ll bring you some pajamas from my room.” Bobby pats his leg as he gets up. 

“No!” Reggie shouts, his outburst causing Bobby to jump on the spot. “I mean… just…” 

“Stay,” Luke finishes. 

Bobby is back on the couch in an instant. “Shit, Reg, I didn’t even think. I’m sorry, dude.” 

“It’s okay. I love you.” Reggie’s smile is so heartbreakingly genuine, even after their conversations from the past few hours. 

Bobby takes his hand, squeezing it gently. “Just because you love me doesn’t mean you have to forgive me so fast, alright?” 

Reggie’s mouth hangs open, like this is the first time he’s heard that and doesn’t know how to respond. But, knowing him, it probably _is_ his first time hearing that, and Alex’s heart breaks further. “But…” 

“I love you, too, dude.” 

Reggie needs to stop smiling like _that_ or else Alex _will_ cry. He hums, nuzzling his head in the crook of Alex’s neck while Alex slips a hand under his thigh, extending his protective grasp around his boyfriend. 

“Back to sleep?” Alex whispers. 

Reggie nods, tickling Alex’s skin with his hair, breathing slower, letting out a soft hum before going quiet. “Safe now.” 

With Luke on one side, Bobby on the other, all of them holding onto Reggie in some way, Alex knows it’s true, and he intends to keep it like that for as long as he can. 

~~~ 

They drag themselves out of bed the next morning (mainly because Alex’s mom would lecture them if they skip school). 

They put off going to Reggie’s house for as long as they can, eating breakfast in Bobby’s kitchen, showering in the studio bathroom, and digging into their limited stash of spare clothes and Bobby’s closet. They stop by their houses to grab backpacks and ensure parents that they didn’t run away without warning. Luke goes in with Reggie and they exit without a problem, just in time to hear “Come On, Eileen” from the car stereo. 

Luke scrunches his nose at the song. “Whose mixtape is this?” He shoots a look toward Alex, the obvious culprit when it comes to pop music. 

“Okay, _maybe_ it’s mine, but we’ll have to listen to the rest to know for sure.” 

Luke rolls his eyes but hums along anyway as Alex performs, trying to get Luke to be his backseat duet partner. 

When the next song starts, they’re greeted by an unfamiliar acoustic guitar riff, until— 

_“Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene.”_

“Reggie,” the other three determine in unison. 

The boy in question has been singing since the first lyric, gleefully oblivious to his friends’ distaste. 

“ _I’m begging of you, please don’t take my man_ ,” Reggie sings to Bobby like he’s the Jolene in question trying to steal his man. 

“Can we skip this?” Luke asks. “You know I hate country.” 

“No!” Reggie shouts, twisting around from the passenger seat as if this is a personal attack. “I _love_ Dolly!” His lip trembles and Alex is _helpless_. Luke pouting is one thing, but Reggie changes the game. 

“Dude, we have to listen to Dolly,” Alex decides. 

Luke grumbles an _Okay_ as he crosses his arms. And then Reggie _giggles_ , and it’s a complete turnaround from his state the night before, and it’s unbearably cute, and Alex can’t help but surge forward and kiss him full on the lips, because he just wants to keep his boy _happy_. 

And they’re kissing. In front of Luke and Bobby. 

…who don’t even question it, especially when Luke follows suit and kisses Reggie, too, like it’s the most natural response in the world. 

And Alex should probably feel a pang of jealousy because some guy kissed his boyfriend, but it’s not just _some guy_ , it’s Luke. _Their_ Luke. 

Reggie meets Alex’s eyes when Luke pulls back, his face a mix of confusion and elation and _so much love_. 

Alex is quite smitten, to say the least. 

Bobby yells about their dangerous car etiquette — which is rich coming from him, since he’s going twenty miles per hour above the speed limit with one hand on the wheel. Luke, clearly caught up in the moment, chants that Bobby should kiss Reggie, too. And Reggie, already blushing a nice shade of pink, quickly agrees. 

So, at the next stoplight, Bobby puts the car in park and kisses Reggie over the center console. They pull apart only when the car behind them honks, signaling the light changed while they were… preoccupied. 

Reggie turns a shade of red that envies his signature flannel. “That— that was hot. Bobby wins.” 

“I’m not kissing you again.” 

“Okay, but if you ever think you might like guys—” 

“I _do_ like guys, just not you three—” 

“We could make out as friends.” 

“ _Reginald_.” Bobby points at the backseat. “I’m not kissing you guys, so don’t get any ideas.” 

“As long as you don’t get any ideas either, Bobby.” Luke winks as he leans against the passenger seat. 

Bobby shoves him back. “Again with the unsafe—” 

Reggie continues singing over their fighting. 

“ _You could have your choice of men, but I could never love again. He’s the only one for me, Jolene._ ”

Alex joins in, knowing all the lyrics after being subjected to listen to Dolly Parton CDs with Reggie. Luke and Bobby stop their bickering at the sound of the third voice. “ _I had to have this talk with you, my happiness depends on you, and whatever you decide to do, Jolene._ ”

“Oh, Alex,” Luke says. “Not you, too.” 

“Blame Reggie.” 

Reggie flashes a grin on cue, somehow bigger and brighter than ever. “ _I’m begging of you, please don’t take my man._ ”

“I wish I was at school.” 

To top it all off, Bobby harmonizes in the last chorus. “ _Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene._ ”

And Reggie laughing in the front seat, like he’s on top of the world, last night’s version of him completely forgotten. 

Alex doesn’t want to forget it, though. He hates it — every time Reggie hurts, he’s filled with rage and sorrow burning through his chest like it physically pains him, too. He’s filled with the desire to protect this boy with everything in his heart, shout back at his parents, buy golf clubs to complement the baseball bat in the studio. 

_And, god_ , Alex silently prays, _don’t hurt this boy anymore._

“ _Please don’t take him even though you can._ ” 

~~~ 

“Jesus fucking christ,” Luke swears approximately two minutes later. 

“Okay, language…” 

“Alex!” 

Alex holds his hands up defensively. “What’s going on? You good?” 

Luke slumps back in his seat. “It’s Columbus Day.” 

Bobby swerves as he turns into the school parking lot. “Who the fuck is Columbus?” 

“Oh! He’s that white guy from history class!” Reggie perks up. 

“Reg, there are a lot of white guys in history class,” Bobby says as he pulls into a space. Surprisingly, the parking lot is empty. Wait a minute… 

“We don’t have school today,” Alex realizes. “Jesus fucking Christ.” 

“Language, Alexander!” 

“Luke, I swear to god—” 

“Guys!” Reggie interrupts their budding argument with wide eyes and a hopeful smile. “We never watched the movie last night.” He looks between all of them expectantly. “Can we…” 

Before Luke or Alex have the chance to respond, Bobby is already driving back toward the studio. “You got it, Reg.” 

Reggie beams, radiant as the sun. 

And with that single smile, Alex has a good feeling about today. Except for one minor detail… “Hey, Luke,” he starts. “How come your mom didn’t say anything about our day off when we stopped by your house?” 

Luke shrugs. “I think she was more worried about us getting here in one piece.” 

Bobby swats a hand around the backseat, narrowly missing Luke’s cheek. “I am an _excellent_ driver. Fuck you.” 

“I thought you weren’t interested?” Luke chuckles, an obnoxiously smug grin on his face as he sticks his tongue out at Bobby. 

“Luke Patterson, I will turn this car around _right now_ —” 

Yeah. Definitely a good day. 

* * *

The newest thing in Alex’s life is his parents inviting Reggie to dinner that weekend. 

His mind runs through a thousand different scenarios in ten seconds trying to figure out why his mom suggested it, but they all lead back to his parents _knowing_. He’s so caught up in his own head he almost misses the actual reasoning. 

“He’s been your math tutor for so long,” his mom explains. “We just want to thank him.” 

Somehow, _that_ didn’t come up during his internal panic, especially since most of their study sessions focused more on each other and less on math. But, he can’t think of a valid excuse to get out of it, which is how Reggie winds up sitting across from him at the dinner table that night. 

“Alexander mentioned you’ve always had a knack for numbers” is how Mrs. Mercer starts the conversation. “Your parents must be so proud.” 

Reggie’s smile threatens to fall. “Uh, yeah. Really proud.” Alex knocks their ankles together underneath the table and the grin returns. “But Alex is the real star here. Top of our class, amazing drummer—” 

“Reggie—” 

“Dude, you did better than me on our last pre-calc test.” 

“Only because you helped me.” 

“Yeah, and _you_ kept yelling at me to do my homework.” 

“Do you yell at the other one, too?” Mr. Mercer cuts in. “You know, the dropout who can’t find a proper shirt?” 

Reggie frowns. “Luke isn’t a dropout.” 

“It’s only a matter of time.” Mr. Mercer shrugs, taking a sip of his beer. 

“No, it isn’t.” Reggie calmly sets his utensils down on his plate. “He may not be the most studious guy, but that doesn’t mean he’s gonna quit.” 

Mr. Mercer’s eyes narrow. “Alexander, get ahold of your friend.” 

Alex glances between them. He could be a good boyfriend and favor Reggie’s side, or he could take the easy way out since this is his dad and he’s never been the best at standing up to bullies. The choice is obvious. “No. He’s right.” 

“Alexander, what have we said about speaking back against your father?” 

Alex crosses his arms. “You guys can’t ignore Reggie just because he said something you didn’t like.” 

“Alexander,” Mr. Mercer grumbles, “you have one more chance to put yourself and your friend in line.” 

His heart pounds in his ears. He stares at his dad as he pushes down the panic, hoping it comes off as a moment of consideration. He turns to Reggie and he can see the nervous blush creeping up his neck, almost matching the shade of his flannel. 

Like he said, the choice is obvious. 

“Reggie,” Alex says, “what were you saying earlier?” 

Reggie stammers out a response, visibly stunned by Alex’s words. “Alex, you don’t—” 

And in a moment that flashes by like lightning, there’s a sharp crack, chairs are shoved, and Alex is on the floor, his mother is yelling at his father, and Reggie is against the wall. 

Mr. Mercer’s booming voice fills the room. “You do not come into _my_ house and disrespect me, you hear that?” 

Alex is on his feet faster than he intended and black spots cloud his peripherals. He steadies himself on the table. “Dad, don’t—” 

“Your whole band is fucking _soft_ ,” his dad spits the words like poison. “Probably a bunch of—”

For a split second, Reggie gets the upper hand, managing to pin Alex’s dad to the wall. He grabs some utensil from the table, but Mr. Mercer is faster. He pins Reggie again and smashes the beer bottle against the wall above his head. Glass and liquid fly in every direction. Reggie struggles to break free, diving underneath arms and into Alex, who shoves him toward the door, getting his own backpack and Reggie’s jacket on their way out. 

They run until they make it to the end of the street, only stopping to catch their breath and ensure that Mr. Mercer isn’t following them. 

Alex resists the urge to pull Reggie into a hug right there, his sole inhibitor being the racing thought of _Get out now, keep him safe_ as he suggests, “Studio?”

Reggie shakes his head. “My parents aren’t home. Less questions.” 

~~~ 

When Alex wakes up in Reggie’s bed the next morning, said boy sprawled on top of his chest, the last thing he expects to see is Bobby climbing in through the window. 

Well, maybe not the _last_ thing, but still pretty low on the probability list. 

“Reg, get up.” 

Reggie groans in response, nuzzling his head in the crook of Alex’s neck. 

“Bobby’s here.” 

“Cool, I love Bobby. Back to sleep.” 

“ _Reggie_ —” 

Bobby touches his shoulder and Reggie jolts up, falling out of the bed. Alex is suddenly extremely aware of the fact that he’s shirtless and Reggie is in a tank top and boxers, stuttering _It’s not what it looks like_ at the same time he blurts out _Please don’t tell Luke_. 

Bobby sighs, either ignoring their revelations or refusing to comment. “I’ll let him in downstairs so he doesn’t have to see… this.” He gestures to them, as well as the discarded clothes littering the floor. “But then we have a band meeting. _Please_ get dressed.” 

They nod as he leaves, quickly obliging his orders to meet their friends in the living room where Bobby sits on the couch while Luke paces in true Alex fashion. 

“Where were you guys?” Luke demands. “We had rehearsal last night and neither of you showed up.” 

Okay, maybe they _should’ve_ chosen the studio over Reggie’s house. 

Alex and Reggie turn to each other and Luke gasps, his look of anger morphing into concern. “What the hell, Reg?” His hands hover over the buttons of Reggie’s flannel. “Can I?” 

Reggie furrows his brows and nods. Luke unbuttons the top half of his shirt. A huge bruise stretches from Reggie’s shoulder to his lower neck. 

“How the fuck did I miss that?” Bobby says under his breath. 

Forget Bobby, how the fuck did _Alex_ miss that? They spent the whole night together. Reggie was _right there_. They checked each other for injuries before and after showers and locking doors and laundry and actually eating dinner and another shower because Reggie kept complaining about the smell of beer sticking to him. 

Luke pushes them to the couch as he tells Bobby to find an ice pack. Alex wraps an arm around Reggie and Luke holds their hands, kneeling in front of them. When Bobby comes back, he tosses the ice pack to Alex and puts one hand on top of theirs, the other on Luke’s shoulder. 

“What happened?” Luke asks, softer this time. 

“It’s my fault—” 

“Reggie—” 

“I need to learn how to shut up, okay?” Reggie huffs, leaning back against the couch. “It’s my fault.” 

“No, it wasn’t—” 

“You weren’t there, Luke. If I didn’t open my fucking mouth, then he wouldn’t have hit Alex—” 

“He did what?” Bobby’s grip tightens ever so slightly. “Who?” Reggie falls silent, but Bobby presses again, lowering his voice to avoid coming off as angry. “Who, Reg?” 

Alex clears his throat. “My dad.” He explains the details of the previous night, omitting his father’s tasteless choice of words. At different points, Bobby and Luke have to restrain each other from running out and giving Mr. Mercer a piece of their minds. 

And it’s _weird_ thinking about how his dad was acting. He was never the type to pick fights, let alone _start_ them, _and_ get physical. He was always nice to Alex’s friends — and Natalie’s — in a joking way that let the kids feel safe in their home. Sure, he was strict in some ways. Some parents were okay with their kids’ friends calling them by their first name, but his dad only allowed _Mister_ and _Sir_. His dad never hit him — it only happened once when he was younger, but he barely remembers it. Everything about the previous night seems so out of place until Reggie puts it into three simple words. 

“He was drunk.” 

Alex shakes his head. There’s _no way_ that could be true. “No, he never gets drunk. He had a few sips of beer, but that’s not enough—” 

“Dude, I can _tell_. My dad smells the exact same when he comes home every other night.” 

Oh. 

It makes sense? It’s stupid and it shouldn’t make sense, but it _does_. He beats himself up over the fact that he didn’t catch on, and that he brought Reggie along for the ride, putting him in a dangerous environment that was far too reminiscent of his own home life. He never expected his dad to get _drunk_ , though, especially when he knew Alex was bringing a guest to dinner. 

But still. _I’m sorry_ is all he manages to say to Reggie, even after apologizing countless times the night before. 

Reggie assures him _It’s okay_ for the millionth time. “I feel like I should shower again, though.” He doesn’t need another shower, he’s already taken three within the past twelve hours. It’s safe to assume Reggie can still feel the memory of last night on his skin, too. 

Alex leans into Reggie’s shoulder, inhaling the scent of fabric softener and liquor. “It’s your shirt. I’ll put in another load.” 

“I got it,” Reggie says, shrugging off Alex’s arm as he gets up, unbuttoning his flannel and disappearing down the hallway. 

“Yeah, okay,” he mutters. 

Then Luke takes Reggie’s spot, speaking in a hushed voice. “The fuck are we gonna do?” 

“I— what?” 

“This is the second fight he’s gotten into in a month,” Luke says, retracting his hand from the other guys’. “I’m— I’m worried about him.” 

“Maybe we really _are_ the bad influences your mom thinks we are, huh?” Bobby guesses, nudging Alex in the ribs, although the expression on Luke’s face kills the joke in an instant. “Sorry.” 

Alex fiddles with the ice pack he had been holding to Reggie’s shoulder only a few minutes ago. “I think it’s because—” 

“If you say it’s because of you, 'Lex, I swear—” 

“Don’t call me _'Lex_ ,” he snaps. Guilt immediately washes over him when he can’t decipher Luke’s reaction. “I mean— I’m— I’m used to—” 

“Reg, yeah,” Luke nods solemnly. 

Before they can continue, Reggie returns, donning Alex’s pink hoodie, and flopping down in the space between Luke and Alex. Luke throws an arm over him, all traces of worry disappearing as he suggests they take advantage of Reggie’s empty house and spend the day relaxing, and Reggie is more than happy to recommend a _Star Wars_ marathon, which leads to the two of them flipping through the Peterses’ movie collection. 

“Hey, 'Lex.” All eyes turn to Bobby. “Why don’t we get some snacks?” 

In the painfully awkward seconds until Alex responds, he catches Reggie scan Bobby up and down with a blank expression, chewing on his lip like it’s the only thing preventing him from talking. “Yeah— yeah, okay.” 

And then the tension resolves in a snap as he and Bobby make their way to the kitchen, although Alex swears he overhears Luke ask Reggie if he’s okay, receiving a short _Great_ in response. It’s a bit ironic to consider the possibility of Reggie getting jealous of Bobby, considering the fact that they kissed in front of Alex last week, although it was strictly platonic. But, knowing Reggie, he’ll probably get over it once he’s back in Alex’s arms. 

“How long?” Bobby crosses his arms, questioning in a low voice. 

“What?” 

He looks into the living room from where they’re standing as if he’s checking to make sure the other guys aren’t eavesdropping. “How long have you been together?” 

In his heart, it feels like forever. In reality, “Like, two weeks?” 

“And the fighting?” 

“He wouldn’t have gone after those assholes if it wasn’t for me, and— and my dad called Sunset Curve a band of…” He shakes his head, refusing to finish the sentence. “He— I don’t deserve him.” 

“Yes, you do, okay?” Bobby steps closer, gripping Alex by his shoulders. “You deserve good things, and so does he, and you guys make each other happy, so don’t even try that bullshit with me, alright?” 

Bobby has always been the least physically affectionate in the band, so it’s unsurprising when he stumbles back into the counter when Alex tackles him in a hug that says everything he can’t. It’s the _Thank you_ Alex knows will make him cry if he speaks, and Bobby tightening his grasp is code for _Of course, dude_. 

They pull away with minimal tears for the sake of not wanting to explain themselves to Luke and Reggie, though Bobby maintains his hold on Alex’s shoulder with a strange glint in his eye. “Anyone give you the shovel talk?” 

Alex scoffs. “What do you think?” 

“Okay, well, if you hurt him, I’ll kill you,” Bobby starts, eager to take on the role himself. “And if he hurts you, then you probably deserve it.” 

Alex’s jaw drops. “Excuse you?” 

“We gotta get snacks, bro.” 

“Oh— okay.” Apparently the rush for food is more important than discussing Bobby’s clear bias toward Reggie but whatever. Alex would argue in favor of him, too. 

They return with bowls of chips and fruit and water bottles because _It’s 9am, we’re not drinking soda_. Reggie drags a pile of blankets from his room while Luke pops in some movie musical because he _can appreciate the composition_ and not because he’s a _secret theatre geek, thank you very much, Bobby_. 

Reggie pulls Alex to his chest, which causes Luke to complain about having to cuddle with Bobby _again_ , who doesn’t bother with a verbal response and pushes Luke to lay his head in Alex’s lap while bringing Luke’s legs onto his own. 

It’s a nice distraction for the time being, until the conversation turns serious once more. Alex, what’s going on with your parents. Reggie, when are yours getting home. Bobby, when’s the last time they talked to you. Luke, have they stopped complaining about the band. And so on until the issues run out, but from this point in time, it seems like they never will. 

* * *

When he comes home that Wednesday, the first time in four days since the dinner, the Mercers don’t ask for an explanation. 

So, he doesn’t offer one. 

Like nothing happened.

* * *

Alex doesn’t remember the joke. 

Bobby had just gotten his first job and brought sparkling cider so they could celebrate after practice, pretending to be happily drunk from the alcohol-free beverage. They sprawl out over the couch and chairs with take-out Chinese food and wine glasses Bobby snuck from his house. 

And then some joke is told, probably a pun courtesy of Reggie, and they can’t stop giggling. It turns into full-body laughter, the kind that makes stomachs hurt because it doesn’t _stop_ , but they don’t want it to stop. The warmth of the room quadruples; it starts feeling like a home, even though they’ve all used it as refuge more times than they can count in the past year. 

When the laughter dies down, Reggie wraps himself around Alex’s torso, placing small kisses on his chest. He tilts his head up to look at Alex for a second and his eyes are full of soft adoration and _god, Alex is so in love with this boy_. He lays his head down and Alex catches Luke’s gaze — and he’s looking at them the exact way Reggie did. Alex gestures for him to join them and Luke doesn’t hesitate to put his head in Alex’s lap, the perfect spot for Reggie to play with his hair. 

Bobby, who managed to sit upside down in his chair, is somehow oblivious to all this, until Alex practically yells, _Dude, get over here_. He slides into the space in the cuddle pile beneath Luke’s legs and under Alex’s arm. 

And this? This is the kind of love Alex wants to feel for the rest of his life. 

* * *

Luke cancels rehearsal. 

And he never cancels unless one of them has a problem and they’re all relatively fine today, so, naturally, Alex is worried. 

When he shows up at Luke’s house and Mrs. Patterson directs Alex to his room, Reggie is already there, holding Luke to his chest as they sit on the floor, the gentle strum of his guitar filling the space. 

“What’s up?” 

Luke shrugs. 

“He won’t tell me either,” Reggie answers. 

“Because nothing’s _up_ ,” Luke corrects, putting his guitar to the side as Alex sits cross-legged in front of him. “I just… didn't want to rehearse today.” 

“You _always_ want to rehearse,” Alex says. “You’re never _not_ thinking about music.” 

“Well, maybe I should think about it a little less.” 

Alex and Reggie lock eyes. Something is _definitely_ wrong. Where in the world did Luke get that idea? Because he’s never disparaged his love of music before, and he sure as hell isn’t starting now. Alex takes his hand and Reggie nudges him with his head and he gives in, huffing out a sigh. 

“I failed a math test and my mom yelled at me for spending all my time rehearsing instead of studying, and I _really_ don’t want to disappoint her, but then she said I should quit the band, and I— I couldn’t think.” Alex squeezes Luke’s hand, running his thumb over the knuckles. “I know she doesn’t like it, but she’s _never_ told me to stop.” 

“Well, if you quit, then I’ll have to learn guitar and replace you as our frontman, and nobody wants that,” Alex says, getting a dry chuckle from Luke. “Unless…” He picks up the guitar and plays what he thinks might be a chord, but results in a lot of buzzing. 

Luke softens, adjusting Alex’s fingers on the frets. “You’re supposed to press down on the strings more.” He strums lightly and there’s less buzzing, but it sounds better than before. 

“Okay, you’re gonna have to stay in the band for sure,” Alex decides. 

“And I can help you with math,” Reggie offers. 

Luke hesitates. “Guys…” 

Alex puts the guitar down. “You can’t quit something you called your pride and joy.” 

“Your eternal love,” Reggie adds, eager to tease Luke. 

“Your reason for being.” 

“Your baby.” 

“I did _not_ call the band my baby,” Luke says. “Reggie, yes. The band, no.” 

Reggie scoffs in protest. “You’ve _never_ called me baby.” 

“That’s what you think,” Luke says with a wink, oblivious to the way Reggie’s cheeks automatically flush. “You guys hungry?” 

Typical Luke turning this type of discussion about him to food before it gets too emotional. Alex humors him anyway. “I could eat.” 

They make their way to the kitchen, Alex and Reggie awkwardly nodding to the Patterson parents in the living room as they follow Luke. 

If Luke Patterson knows how to cook anything, it’s grilled cheese. And nothing else. So it’s not a surprise when he pulls out bread and cheese. Reggie fiddles with the radio on the counter, tuning it to a clear station, then changing it when he’s unsatisfied with the song, until— 

_“It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside.”_

“We are _not_ listening to Elton John,” Luke decides, washing his hands and drowning out the song. Not because he doesn’t like the singer, but Alex knows Luke has some weird grudge against any and all love songs. 

Reggie pouts. “But, _Luke_ —” 

“I said _no_ —” 

“But I love this song—” 

“You love _every_ song—” 

“But this one—” Reggie cuts himself off, accepting defeat. He’s about to change the station when Alex stops him. 

He tugs Reggie away from the radio and to the center of the kitchen, one hand on his waist, the other holding his hand. “I like the song, too.” 

Luke rolls his eyes and turns back to the stove, more invested in the sandwich than the music, although he’s given up protesting, and he’s _definitely_ humming along. 

And then Reggie starts swaying, and Alex’s feet are still planted on the floor like he doesn’t know what to do. But he _does_ know what to do, he’s just… surprised. “Come _on_ , 'Lex,” Reggie coaxes. “We’ve never danced together.” 

So, Alex sways, too. “This isn’t exactly dancing.” 

Reggie hums. “I don’t care. I like _this_.” 

"I _know it’s not much but it’s the best I can do; my gift is my song and this one’s for you._ "

He tries twirling Alex through the chorus, unceremoniously tripping on his own socked feet and laughing it off as he sings to Alex. Not _at_ him, but softly serenading him in Luke’s kitchen, pulling him closer as they travel in a tiny circle. “ _I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words how wonderful life is while you’re in the world._ ” 

He giggles when Alex presses a kiss to his cheek during the few seconds when Luke isn’t watching them with the fondest expression Alex has ever seen. 

Then Reggie breaks away. “Luke, you gotta dance with Alex!” he insists, shoving the two of them together before either can get a word in, taking the opportunity to man the stove. 

That’s when Alex sees it. The tenderness in Reggie’s expression, admiring them like they’re personally responsible for crafting all the stars in his galaxy. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s caught Reggie looking at him or Luke like that separately, but now they’re in the same frame, and it just feels _right_. 

Reggie is undoubtedly in love with him and Luke, whether or not he knows it yet. 

Luke’s question of _Is this okay?_ brings Alex back to earth. Luke is holding onto him the same way Reggie was, albeit more unsure.

Alex nods, and they’re swaying slowly as Luke gets the hang of it, relaxing and resting his head on Alex’s shoulder. He _is_ humming along. It’s a mellow change of pace from his usual rockstar persona. He’s much more vulnerable than Alex is used to seeing, even now, as reserved as he is. 

_“But the sun’s been quite kind while I wrote this song; it’s for people like you that keep it turned on.”_

Luke is a bit more successful in his attempts to spin Alex, although when Alex tries it, too, Luke stumbles into him in a laughing mess, kissing Alex’s cheek when they’re steady again. 

“What was that for?” 

Luke shrugs, a bashful smile sneaking onto his face. “You just seem so happy.” 

“I do?” 

“Yeah, it’s like there’s no weight on your shoulders for once.” 

_“Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen.”_

Alex stops for a moment, then Luke gets them going again. 

He didn’t even notice. Sure, he’s been more relaxed between coming out to the guys and just _being_ with them, but he didn’t realize he’d been so obvious about it. But Luke can see it clear as day, and so did Reggie a few weeks ago. 

“He’s right,” Reggie chimes in, flipping a finished sandwich onto a plate. “We like seeing you like this.” 

“ _Love_ it,” Luke emphasizes. 

Alex loves it, too. And he loves them. He can’t even think of a witty remark to fight the tears welling up in his eyes. “It’s because I’m with you guys.” 

Reggie fumbles with the spatula, nearly dropping it before pointing it at the other boys. “'Lex, you’re such a sap. I’m cutting in.” 

“No—” 

“ _Luke_ —” 

“But it’s _my_ turn—” 

“ _My_ Alex—” 

“He’s not—” 

They’re both cut off by the sound of Mrs. Patterson calling Luke to the living room. Luke sends a mock glare toward Reggie as he flips the final sandwich onto a plate and turns off the stove. 

As soon as Luke is out of sight, Reggie kisses Alex, soft and chaste, melting into him and greatly slowing the pace of their swaying. He holds them together like this is a prolonged hug with a bit of movement and Alex doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate. He snakes one arm around Reggie’s shoulders, the other through the hair on the back of his head. 

“I think,” Alex pauses, mumbling against Reggie’s temple, “I’m definitely in love with him, too.” 

“For sure?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What do we do now?” Reggie looks up at him with wide eyes full of uncertainty, but _We_ , the unspoken confirmation of _You were right to assume my love, my love_ is all Alex needs to hear to ease his mind, even when his next words are: 

“No idea.” 

The song ends, changing into something quiet that neither of them recognize, but still easy on the ears. Reggie’s head finds its spot against Alex’s heart as Alex leans into the crook of Reggie’s neck, an unspoken gesture of solidarity as they remain stuck with their feelings to themselves. Unless— 

“What if we tell him?” Reggie whispers. 

Alex ponders this, because, god, things would be so much easier if Luke _knew_ , right? Whether or not he’d like one of them back, let alone both of them, at least they would be out of secrets. They could approach him together, _Hey, Luke, we’re dating, and we both like you_. It might be confusing at first, but they could all try to figure out where to go from there. But as Luke makes his way back to the kitchen, Alex’s heart sinks as he’s hit with a more probable reality. He doesn’t want to consider Luke’s potential bad reaction, kicking them out of his house, the band, his life. 

“Maybe another day,” Alex murmurs into Reggie’s ear, kissing the space above it. 

He catches Luke plaster on a smile as soon as he steps into the room, which means the exchange with his mom didn’t go so well. He ignores the fact, so Alex will, too (for now). “I bet I made a better grilled cheese than Reggie.” 

Reggie pulls back, still holding Alex by the waist. “No way.” 

“Alex, dude, you gotta try both of ours,” Luke decides, moving the plates to the table and nudging the boys on his way. 

Alex rolls his eyes but accepts the judging challenge with a laugh, taking a seat as Reggie gets sodas from the fridge. And when Luke pulls Reggie to sit on his leg under the guise of _We have to see his reactions together_ , Alex chooses not to comment, even though there are two empty chairs with a decent view of his face but _okay_. 

And Alex lets himself think, just for a moment, maybe Luke _does_ like them back. Maybe they don’t have to worry about the _what if_ of anything else. Maybe. 

* * *

They never fight. 

They _never_ fight because Reggie avoids confronting his own problems like the plague and Alex is a peacemaker to a fault. 

Until Luke calls him _'_ _Lex._

This isn’t the first time it’s happened, but Reggie wasn’t in the room during that conversation, and his mood shifts for the rest of rehearsal. No mic sharing, no turning back to admire the drummer, not even a glance at Bobby. Just an eerily calm bassist, completely unlike his typical joyous presence. 

He almost leaves without saying goodbye until Alex calls him back to talk alone. And then he shrinks in on himself, like he knows he’s about to be scolded. He shakes when Alex takes his hand and apologizes immediately. 

“Reg, I’m not mad at you.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m sure.” He cups Reggie’s cheek with his free hand. “What’s bothering you?” 

“It’s stupid.” 

“I promise you, it’s not, especially if it’s affecting you like _this_.” 

“I thought…” Reggie starts, focusing on Alex’s chin instead of his eyes. “I thought it was _my_ nickname for you.” 

Oh. 

“It felt special, like it was just us, and I know we talked about telling him, but I thought we’d have more time together…” 

“Reg,” Alex whispers. “We knew it was never going to be _just_ us. Not with Luke in the picture.” 

“I know, which is why it’s stupid, because I love him, and— and I love _you_ , but I really— I liked being alone with you.” 

Alex’s hand moves to Reggie’s hair, playing with the ends of it on the back of his head. “Then we’ll make time to be alone.” 

Reggie perks up. “Really?” 

Alex kisses his forehead. “Yes, Reg, of course.” 

Reggie laughs and pulls him into a tight hug. It feels like there’s more to be said, especially on Reggie’s part. Alex knows he’s been a stranger to affection from anyone other than the band, and maybe he doesn’t want to let go of what he has, what _they_ have. It’s his version of a fear of change and Alex is too familiar with the concept. So he’ll do what he can to support Reggie and make him feel loved, and today, that starts with wrapping his arms around the other boy and kissing his temple. 

* * *

There’s something unceremoniously graceful about the way Reggie flops down on the couch and hugs Luke’s torso. 

Alex and Luke had been doing homework to pass time until Reggie comes back from detention (the guy gets a lot of tardies and apparently that’s grounds for detention? Rude) and Bobby has to work for a few hours. But the unusual entrance of their bassist is concerning, to put it simply. 

Naturally, Luke hugs back, but his face is full of a worry that calls Alex over to put an arm around both of them. “Hey, Reg, what’s up?” 

“I’m okay.” He says it so calmly there’s no way he could be lying, but still… 

“Reg,” Alex presses in a softer tone. 

Reggie shifts to rest his chin on Luke’s shoulder. “Luke, what’s wrong?” 

_Of course_. Reggie can always sense when one of their moods shift from a mile away. Add that to the list of reasons why Alex loves him. 

“What? Nothing.” 

“I ate, like, half of your fries at lunch and you didn’t even notice.” 

“Oh.” 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“I just…” Luke glances at them warily before shaking his head. “No, it’s— not yet.” And he looks at them like he… _knows_. It’s not that Alex and Reggie have been _lying_ to him, they’re just not _telling_ him the whole truth. 

(Okay, maybe they _are_ lying.) 

But they also haven’t openly done anything that would give away their relationship. Could Luke have seen something and that’s what’s upsetting him? Reggie _did_ kiss Alex that morning when the hallway was mostly empty and no one was near them, and they hid behind Reggie’s locker door, but it _was_ right before Luke showed up… 

Alex brushes off the thought. He finds the ends of Luke’s hair with his hand as he stretches around Reggie. “We love you, dude.” 

“So much,” Reggie adds. 

Luke presses his forehead to Reggie’s. “I love you guys, too.” 

“Good.” 

Reggie kisses the tip of Luke’s nose, getting a laugh from both of them. He pulls Luke in for a hug, but something goes wrong(?) and Reggie lands on Alex with Luke on top of him. It would be cute, maybe bordering on comfortable, if not for the fact that the wind gets knocked out of Alex immediately. 

“Reg, you’re crushing me.” 

“Luke is crushing _me_.” 

Luke laughs victoriously, clearly satisfied with his position in the cuddle pile. “I win.” 

* * *

It’s the wonderfully casual intimacy of it all. 

Like when Alex is stuck on a particularly tricky chemistry question — he swears he knows the formula, it’s somewhere in his head — so he taps against the couch with one hand and drums on his cheek with his pencil, and not five seconds later, Reggie links their pinkies together. 

The distance between them is a bit more than they’re used to — a mixed heap of notebooks and textbooks piled between them — but Reggie effortlessly eases Alex’s mind with the simple gesture. And Reggie seems completely unfazed as he reads his book, silently mouthing along to the words to fit them in his head. So, Alex makes a big show out of putting their homework onto the coffee table instead. Reggie takes this as a cue to curl into Alex’s side, head on his shoulder, and hook their pinkies again, resuming business as usual. 

And when Luke comes in, resting his head in Reggie’s lap, he offers to hold the book and turn the pages if Reggie will play with his hair and read aloud. Reggie’s tempo is a bit slower than when Luke reads to him, but he’s more focused, making each word important, because Reggie is the kind of guy who will go out of his way to make everyone feel important. 

Alex can’t exactly say how much his heart swells because of this one — probably subconscious — action without distracting them all too much, so he settles for kissing the top of Reggie’s head. And maybe Luke is thinking the same thing, because he follows suit, pulling Reggie’s hand out of his hair and kissing the knuckles gently before resting their intertwined fingers on his chest. Over his heart. 

Alex smiles fondly, and somehow, it goes unnoticed, but _these two with the hearts and the softness…_

* * *

**Halloween 1993.**

Sunset Curve was having their annual horror movie marathon — complete with Bobby laughing at the special effects, Luke claiming he’s okay until the next jump-scare pops up, and Reggie shamelessly hiding his face against Alex. But Bobby’s parents wanted him back at the house, leaving the other three boys in the studio, the wall clock signaling the witching hour leading into the spookiest day of the year. 

And now Alex’s arm is around Luke, who’s curled into his side, and Reggie’s head is in his lap. Luke sighs and hums into Alex’s shoulder, all traces of fear from their Halloween pre-game long forgotten. 

“You gonna fall asleep on me, too, Patterson?” 

Luke lifts his head with a slight shake. “I like this.” 

“This?” 

“Us. You, me, Reg. Together. Just… being with my favorite people.” 

Alex quirks an eyebrow. “So, screw Bobby?” 

“Bobby’s cool, but…” Luke’s eyes drift down to his lips. 

Oh. 

Maybe Alex and Reggie won’t have to tell him. Maybe Luke has a confession of his own. Maybe Alex should react more as Luke _leans in_. 

Until a yawn interrupts them, followed by a stretch, and Reggie reaching his arms back to find the other two boys. One hand gently lands on Alex’s face and Luke catches the other. 

Luke kisses Reggie’s knuckles. “Good nap?” 

“How long was I out?” 

“Ten minutes.” 

Reggie yawns again as he sits up and turns to look at them, steadying himself with the help of Alex’s thigh and the back of the couch. “Uh oh. Luke’s making that face again.” 

Luke raises an eyebrow. “What face?” 

“The face you make every time you think about how much you _love_ us.” 

Luke’s expression softens, smiling as he looks between the two. Reggie has a point. Luke’s “face” includes a warm smile and looking at them like they’re the moon pulling his tides, like they’re his whole world. Like how he looked at them the other day. Alex wouldn’t be surprised if they can hear the way his heart speeds up when Luke does it. 

“I’m always thinking about how much I love you guys.” He presses a kiss to Alex’s cheek, then another to Reggie’s, although that one lasts a moment longer. 

Reggie’s voice cracks when he makes fun of Luke for being a sap before excusing himself to the bathroom. 

And somehow, that reminds Luke: “I forgot my pajamas,” he says with a frown. 

Alex rolls his eyes as he pulls off his hoodie and hands it over. He knows exactly what Luke is doing. “I think Reggie left some sweatpants in the loft.” Luke gives him pleading eyes and Alex sees right through it. “I’m not getting them for you.” 

“ _Please_ , Alex, I’ll do anything.” 

Alex scoffs and quirks an eyebrow in disbelief. “Anything?” The loft is only a short hike away. How hard could it be for Luke to just get the clothes himself? 

But then Luke is glancing down at his lips again, and then he’s leaning in _again_ , and Alex realizes what’s happening just in time to put an arm between the two of them. “What are you doing?” 

“I—” 

“Are you screwing with me?” 

“No, Alex, I’m sorry—” 

“Then, what the hell?” 

“I like you. And I thought…” Luke shifts, distancing himself from Alex. “But you don’t like me back, and I’ve been misreading things, and I’m really sorry.” 

Alex blinks slowly. “You… like me?” 

What. The. Hell. 

“Yeah. I mean, how could I not?” 

Alex is still unsure. He trusts Luke entirely, he’d never pull a mean prank like kissing Alex and laughing it off. But Alex has to be careful, just in case. It was easier with Reggie, but that was before homophobic classmates, and that guy Kyle not-so-subtly asking Reggie out. 

But this is _Luke_ , _their_ Luke, and as much as it may seem like it’s coming out of nowhere, it’s also not? In moments during rehearsal, when he and Reggie aren’t watching each other, they’d be staring at Luke, and Luke would wink at both of them. Before shows, he’d put himself between Alex and Reggie — on couches, on floors, in alleys as they walked behind the venues. After, he’d opt for holding their hands instead of going off with Bobby to flirt with fans. But Luke would always look at him the same way he’d look at… 

“What about Reggie?” is Alex’s first question. 

“I like him, too,” Luke admits. “Don’t you?” 

Well, yes, but Alex didn’t realize they were _that_ obvious. “Yeah. okay, so how is this gonna work? Can you even date two people at once?” 

Luke shrugs. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.” 

It’s not the most reassuring statement in the world, but it’s Luke and Reggie. The idea of them being by his side eases his mind, regardless of the situation. “Okay.” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“What?” 

Luke takes his hand and repeats himself. “Alex, can I kiss you?” 

Thank goodness he and Reggie cleared up the _Luke issue_ early in their relationship. 

Alex nods, and then Luke’s lips are on his. It’s soft and slow and sweet. It’s the exact opposite way he’d imagine Luke to kiss, all rough and bold, and probably just as grabby while making out as he is while hugging (not that Alex has ever thought about it) (every other night) (and had a full discussion with Reggie about the logistics). Luke puts a hand on his cheek to deepen the kiss for a second before pulling away far too soon. 

Somehow, Alex is breathless. “That all you got, Patterson?” 

Luke laughs, and they’re close enough that Alex can feel it. “Don’t tempt me, Mercer.” 

“Or what?” 

Alex leans back to watch Luke raise an eyebrow before he surges forward and pulls him back in. The shock earns a chuckle from Luke and he climbs into Alex’s lap. 

And Alex knows exactly where to put his hands, tracing up and down Luke’s spine until one lands in his hair and the other on the small of his back, as if he’s done this a thousand times. It feels natural with Luke, just as it does with Reggie, like he was always meant to kiss them. 

The sound of the door opening is enough warning for them to pull apart, but Luke refuses to move off of him. 

It takes Reggie about five seconds to register the scene before exclaiming, “First, he takes my spot. Now, your sweatshirt. What’s next?” as he flops down on the other end of the couch. 

“Your heart!” Luke says, kissing the top of Reggie’s head on his way to the bathroom. 

“Your sweatpants,” Alex corrects, reaching for Reggie’s hand. 

“What?” 

“The spare ones you keep in the loft?” 

Reggie gestures down to his legs. “I’m wearing them.” 

“Then Luke’s gonna have to figure something out himself.” They both laugh and Alex tries pulling him closer. “How come you're so far?” 

Reggie shrugs. “I’ve been clinging to you all night. Thought you’d want some space.” 

Yeah, okay, something’s up. Alex rolls his eyes. “You’re my boyfriend. Come here.” He lays down, pulling Reggie to his chest, hands circling his back. “You okay?” Reggie nods, bunching up the hem of Alex’s shirt in one hand in response to a shoulder squeeze. “You’re tense.” 

“When am I not?” 

“Reg.” 

He sighs, burying his nose into the crook of Alex’s neck. He pauses for a minute before speaking. “I don’t want to go back.” 

“Back where?” 

“My _house_. I like being with you guys.”

“I know.” 

“It’s quieter here. And nice. And _safe_ ,” he mumbles, lips brushing Alex’s skin with every word, sending warmth through his body. It doesn’t help when Reggie throws a leg between Alex’s as he rubs a circle on Reggie’s back with his palm. 

“I kissed Luke.” 

“I figured.” 

“What— how?” 

“You get all red after kissing me.” As if to prove his point, Reggie plants a few firm kisses on Alex’s neck. “I guessed you guys made out while I was in the bathroom.” A few more. “It’s cute to see you all flustered.” Then he focuses on a spot below Alex's jawbone. 

“Says you.” 

Reggie props himself up on an elbow over Alex, sporting the same shade of pink in his cheeks. “I never said _I_ don’t do it, too.” He goes back to work, occasionally grazing his teeth against the skin. 

Alex laughs when he feels Reggie almost bite him. “I hate you.” 

Reggie pauses. “No, you don’t.” His kissing turns softer, and Alex notices the change immediately. He’s hesitating. He rarely does that, especially when he had been joking around just seconds before. 

“You’re right,” Alex says. “I love you more than anything, you dip.” He pulls Reggie up to meet his lips, slow and sweet and deep. He feels Reggie smile against him, and he’s back. Smiling turns into laughing, and Alex can’t help but join in. A happy Reggie is mesmerizing, and if Alex could stay in this moment for just a bit longer, he would. 

They’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps stopping dead in their tracks, then Luke, probably confused by the sight of his friends entangled. “You guys know the couch is a pull-out, right?” 

Reggie jumps up in excitement, stumbling as he gets caught in Alex’s legs. “Since when? That’s gonna make movie night so much better. Oh, my god, think of the _cuddling_. 'Lex, get _up_ —” 

“I’m _trying_ —” 

Either Reggie is a secret jock or his excitement magically gives him strength, because he yanks Alex to stand up with no problem. Alex, on the other hand, practically falls into him at the sudden movement, but Luke is there to steady them. Reggie holds Alex by the hips, pressing their foreheads together, and kissing him on the nose as soon as he’s stable. He plants a kiss on Luke’s cheek, too, then he moves to figure out the sofa bed. 

“How did I not see this before?” Luke asks, furrowing his brows as his eyes follow Reggie. 

“What?” 

He turns to Alex, lowering his voice to a hushed whisper. “You two are… together.” 

“Yeah.” 

“And we…” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“And _he_ —” 

“I know,” Reggie chimes in. 

Luke’s eyes widen. “Reg, I’m so sorry. If I knew—” 

“It’s okay,” Reggie says, tossing him a pillow, “as long as I get to kiss you, too.” 

And then Luke drops the pillow, a bright smile taking over. “Really?” 

“For sure.” 

Luke bounces on his toes as he looks toward Alex expectantly. After receiving a nod with an eye roll and a chuckle, Luke wastes no time before kissing Reggie. And Reggie does that thing where he gives countless little pecks, like he could kiss them a million times and never get sick of it. 

When they pull apart, Reggie announces, “Okay, Luke, you do the couch!” as he makes his way back to Alex, tugging him down for a soft kiss, ignoring Luke’s complaints. And, even though it had only been a few minutes, Alex really missed the feeling of Reggie’s lips on his. Luke wraps an arm around each of them, avoiding his new responsibility in favor of kissing his boyfriends. Wait— 

“So, are we all boyfriends?” 

“Alex—” 

“I like labels! Reggie and I—” 

“Okay, we’re boyfriends!” Luke gives in. “Now, can we _please_ get back to kissing?” 

“But you didn’t do the couch.” 

“ _Reginald_.”

~~~ 

“I forgot to brush my teeth.” 

“'Lex—” 

“No. You’re busy cuddling us.” 

“I’m gonna feel gross in the morning if I don’t.” 

“Oh, my fucking god.” 

“It’ll only be a few minutes!” 

“ _'Lex_ —” 

“Luke, that’s my _rib_ —” 

“I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sleeping.” 

~~~ 

“Finally,” Bobby sighs upon entering the studio the next day. 

Luke sends him a slightly-quizzical-but-mostly-drowsy glare from his spot on Alex’s chest. He and Reggie spent the entire night clinging to him, and, honestly? Alex wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He sits up against the couch, ignoring the other boys’ protests to move, although they follow his example, readjusting themselves to the new position. Reggie takes his sweet time opening his eyes, while Luke threads his fingers through Reggie’s hair. 

“What are you doing up so early?” Alex asks, somehow managing to be the only one who remembers to greet their friend. 

“It’s noon? We have a gig in a few hours.” 

Luke perks up, suddenly interested in Bobby’s presence. “Huh?” 

“My parents agreed to let us play their Halloween party,” Bobby reminds them. 

It definitely slipped Alex’s mind, but, in his defense… boys. Pretty boys. Kissing him. Maybe not the best excuse, but Bobby would likely understand. 

“So,” Bobby starts, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, poking Luke’s side with a cheeky grin. “How long did it take you to tell them?” 

Luke freezes, avoiding Bobby’s gaze once more, until Reggie chimes in with: “He made out with 'Lex while I was in the bathroom.” 

“ _Reggie_ —” 

“You knew they were dating and you made out with Alex anyway?” 

Luke almost jumps out of the bed defensively. “I didn’t—” He cuts himself off. “Wait, you _knew_?” 

“You _didn’t_?” Bobby laughs, throwing his head back, clearly enjoying his temporary moment of superior knowledge, until the realization sets in. “Oh, fuck, you really didn’t know.” 

“It’s okay,” Reggie says, not bothering to look up from Alex’s chest as he finds Luke’s hand easily, like they gravitate toward one another. “We’ve got him now and that’s what matters.” 

Luke opens his mouth to speak then closes it, visibly puzzled by his own loss for words. Bobby bites his lip and quirks an eyebrow at Luke in a teasing manner. 

So, that leaves Alex to come up with a response that won’t be nearly as heartwarming as Reggie’s statement. “Jesus, Reg, and you make fun of _us_ for being saps.” 

“What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic.” 

“Well, you have two boyfriends, so I wouldn’t exactly call you _hopeless_ ,” Bobby says, standing and gently tugging Luke by the ankle. “Now, get _up_. We gotta rehearse.” 

Luke pouts, leaning back into Alex. “Five more minutes?” 

Bobby chuckles as he makes his way to the door. “I’ll give you ten and some breakfast, because I’m _nice_ , but put on some pants.” 

“I— I’m wearing pants!” Luke sputters, a blush creeping up his neck. Alex has never seen him so flustered, but it’s very cute, in his humble opinion. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Patterson.” 

Luke jumps out of the bed at Bobby’s comment, proving his statement to be half-true — he’s in his boxers, which aren’t really considered pants, but he’s more clothed than Bobby was probably suggesting. Their argument leads to Luke planting a kiss on Alex and Reggie’s heads before chasing Bobby up to his house. 

“Told you we’d still get some alone time.” 

Reggie hums, stretching as he sits up, ready to take on the world. “We should go help him.” 

“ _Or_ we could be a respectful audience and get a head start on breakfast.” 

“I love you,” Reggie says with so much certainty Alex feels like his heart will stop right there. He presses a chaste kiss to Alex’s lips— “Your breath stinks.” And with that, he hops out of the bed, following the other two boys up to the Wilson house. 

Alex’s argument of _You and Luke wouldn’t let me get up_ moves to the back of his head as he’s reminded of the storms brewing in Luke’s mind and the stars shining in Reggie’s eyes and the way they fit together like pieces of the same melody until he’s left alone with a single, remaining thought: 

“I love you, too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> me: i will write a nice, short fic about the guys getting together on halloween night  
> me, two months and 23k words later: i lied 
> 
> okay i literally had the whole thing written (except the ending and the aftermath of the alex/parents/reg/dinner nonsense) and i was p much ready to post with joyner and shada as alex and reg’s last names and i’d dramatically swear to come back and edit once we get canon last names and then the jatp insta was like “bro, bro, i got you don’t even worry about it, i love you, bro, go post that fic” i’m gonna eat myself geez louise 
> 
> songs used: “come on eileen” — dexys midnight runners, “jolene” — dolly parton, “your song” — elton john
> 
> and yes, in case you hadn’t noticed, i am, in fact, a pre-august 1995 bobby simp (i will give him the benefit of the doubt that nothing happened for the rest of july)


End file.
